


Tales from the Forge

by Lomelindi (PirateColey)



Category: The Hobbit (2012), The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Canon Compliant, Drabble Series, Family, Fluff, Gen, Soul Forge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-06-15
Packaged: 2017-11-28 20:29:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 22
Words: 19,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PirateColey/pseuds/Lomelindi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of Fíli and Kíli drabbles and prompts (with a side-order of Thorin and Dís). A spin-off of 'Soul Forge', but completely cannon compliant, so it can be read as a stand alone. New prompts are always welcome.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Snowflakes

**Author's Note:**

> This is the prompt series that spawned from my multi-chapter fic ['Soul Forge'](http://archiveofourown.org/works/647764/chapters/1177514)  
> It's not necessary that you read 'Soul Forge', though I hope you do anyway. :)  
>  **Prompts are always welcome- just leave me a comment!**

**One: Snowflakes**

...

The first snowfall of the year is always a big to-do in the Blue Mountains, where Dis and her sons make their home. Fíli and Kíli are notorious for their playfulness, and their mother has always been amazed that so much energy can be contained in such small bodies.

Fíli is no more than twelve years old, but already he has learned the joys of winter play and looks forward to the snow from the first cool winds of autumn. Each morning, he rushes to the window and presses his nose against the glass, searching the skies for the tell-tale darkness of heavy clouds. It doesn't take long for his ever-present shadow of a brother to begin following suit- both boys in nightclothes and stocking feet, peering intently at the sky.

After weeks of fruitless weather-watching, the skies finally open up during the night, blanketing the mountains in a thick cover of white. When morning comes, Fíli is first to the window, rubbing his small fist over the glass to clear the frost away. He looks out the window, halfway through the sigh that has become his daily habit, before realizing the whiteness in front of him. “Snow! Kíli! There's snow!” 

There is a shriek, followed by a loud crash, and the younger dwarf rushes into the room. “Snow!” Kíli throws himself bodily at the window, thumping against the cold glass with a delighted smile.

If the boys were given a choice, they would be out the door that very minute, but mother knows best and Dis is soon wrangling them to the table for breakfast. “Food first. Then we can get you bundled up to go outside.” This earns her two identical pouts and Kíli's trademark puppy dog eyes. “If you lads keep pulling those pouts your faces are going to freeze that way. Now eat up.” The boys attack their breakfast with vigor, stuffing their mouths and swallowing before they even taste the food.

“Done!” Fíli finishes first and pushes back his plate, wiping his mouth on the sleeve of his sleep-shirt.

“Done too! Kíli mimics his brother's actions, then smiles excitedly. “Snow!”

“Alright, you monsters, let's get you into warm clothes.” It takes a great deal longer to get them dressed then Dis expects, mostly because neither boy can seem to hold still. Thick woolen socks go under their boots, pulled far up their legs for added warmth. She layers them with shirts and thick sweaters, followed by their fur-lined coats and warmest mittens. Finally, she tops each head with a knitted hat and a kiss. “I do believe you'll be warm enough now.” Dis stifles a laugh as Fíli moves towards the door, his tiny body round and awkward from all the clothing.

“I hafta pee.” Kíli frowns, flapping his mittened hands to get his mother's attention. “Mama!” With a sigh, Dis begins unwrapping her son, and it is longer still before both boys are ready to go.

...

Outside, the sun glints off the snow as the boys take their first steps onto the virgin whiteness. The snow is the perfect kind of damp stickiness for molding, and it doesn't take long before both boys are happily rolling giant snowballs around the yard.

“Forts, Fee!” Kíli has his back pressed against a snowball almost as big as he is, pushing with his little legs to try and get it to roll.

“Good idea, brother! Then we can have a battle!” Fíli adds his weight to Kíli's and the snowball rolls several more times before coming to a stop with the others. 

They mound the snowballs together, packing the damp snow into the joints with the precision of a dwarven craftsman. The sun is peaking in the sky by the time the boys deem their fort adequately built. The U-shaped structure stands just tall enough that the dwarflings can sit within it and not be seen, but not so tall that they will not be able to launch an attack when the time arrives. Once their garrison is complete, the two move on to rolling snow between their mittened hands to create snowballs. Fíli has the procedure down to a science, finding the perfect dampness of snow and packing it tight enough to be aerodynamic. Kíli's smaller hands do not lend themselves to snowball-making, and his first attempts crumble in his fists.

“Stupid snow!” Kíli pouts, kicking at the base of their fort with a booted foot.

“Hey now!” Fíli glares at him. “You don't have to be mean to our castle, just because you can't make a snowball.”

Kíli makes his best puppy dog eyes at his brother. “Help, Fee...”

Fíli, unable to refuse his brother anything, sighs and scoops up a handful of snow. “Okay... First you need to find snow that is wet enough so it sticks together...”

…

By the time their Uncle Thorin comes over for supper, Fíli and Kíli have amassed a large cache of snowballs. Thorin walks up the path towards the house, pausing slightly to take in the inordinate amount of tiny footprints in the yard. As he walks past the snow fort, a stocking-capped head pops up and giggles, only to be pulled back down by a mittened hand. He takes a few cautious steps nearer to the fort. “Boys?”

SPLAT! The first snowball hits Thorin in the chest.

SPLAT! Another sails through the air and thumps against his arm.

Thorin thinks fleetingly that both of his sister-sons have abnormally good aim, before the next snowball lands square in his face. SPLAT!

“Boys!” Thorin roars, scooping up a handful of snow and rolling it between his hands. “Give up while you still can!”

“Never!” Comes the giggled replies as both dwarflings peek over the edge of their fortress.

SPLAT! A snowball lands atop Fíli's head.

SPLAT! The second hits Kíli in the shoulder.

“Uncle Thorin!” Fíli shrieks, as the cold snow slips down the back of his neck. Kíli takes one look at his brother and laughs so hard he tips over and has trouble righting himself again.

The battle is on in full now, both boys tossing snowballs as fast as they can, trying to hit their uncle before he can retaliate. Thorin alternates between pelting his sister-sons with snow and purposely missing, just to hear the boys delighted laughter. It doesn't take long for the youngsters to run out of snowballs and Thorin takes the opportunity to cement his victory, scooping up an armload of snow and dumping it haphazardly over the wall of the fort. There is a squeal, some not-so-quiet whispers, and then both boys crawl over the wall in defeat.

“You win, Uncle Thorin!” Kíli surrenders, shaking the snow (and his hat) from his head.

Fíli picks at the ice clumped in his mittens and shrugs. “We almost had you though!”

“That you did, boys.” Thorin smiles. “Now why don't we head inside before your mother gets cross with us. I do believe it's supper time.” Each boy grabs one of Thorin's hands and they tramp through the snow towards the house.

…

Dis helps them shed their damp clothing and sets them to eating the warm stew she prepared. Nothing seems to wear a child out quite like a long play out in the cold and soon both boys are wrapped in blankets, tucked close by the fire. Kíli's dark hair sticks up in a wild cowlick from his hat, and Fíli's nose is rosy from the cold.

“Can we play in the snow again tomorrow, mama?” Fíli asks through a yawn.

“We will see, my jewels.” Dis smiles at her boys- each unique as the snowflakes they have been playing in.

“We have to beat Uncle Thorin.” Kíli's words lisp around the thumb in his mouth.

“We will see.” Dis says quietly. 

Full bellies and the warmth from the fire have made the boys drowsy. They sit together in an overstuffed chair, Kíli snuggled down with his head in his brother's lap. Fíli's breath is soft and even, a contented smile on his lips.


	2. The Pony

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Kíli get their first pony.

**Two: The Pony**   
Prompt: Fíli and Kíli get their first pony.  
OP: chestry007 

…

There's a truth shared among all the races, that it's difficult to say no to a child who wants something. This is especially true among dwarves, where children are a rarity to begin with; and even more so among Durin's folk, for children growing up in exile are especially treasured. The fact that it is these particular two children means that their uncle doesn't stand the slightest chance.

“No.” Thorin has no idea what his nephews are getting ready to ask for, but he's familiar enough with their looks to know it can't be anything good.

“But Uncle, just _look_ at him!” Kíli's tiny hands grip the fence post. “He's beautiful!”

Fíli looks at his brother and smirks, knowing full-well what the youngster is after.

“I'm not sure what you're on about.” Thorin frowns. “But no.”

“I'm talking about my pony!” Kíli points into the market paddock.

“Your... pony...?” Thorin's eyebrows disappear into his hairline.

“Yup!” Kíli says, smiling brightly. “His mane is majestic!”

“Majestic?” Thorin blinks.

“Majestic.” Kíli nods seriously. “Just like your hair, Uncle.”

Fíli chokes on his laughter, trying to disguise it with a cough.

“I see...” Thorin says awkwardly. “And which pony, may I ask, are you referring to?”

Kíli sighs, exasperated at his uncle's denseness. “The black one. Obviously.”

Thorin regards the shaggy pony sceptically- its dark mane is wild and unkempt, its body a round from disuse. It is most certainly _not_ majestic.

Fíli leans against the fence next to his brother, bumping their shoulders together. Their eyes meet for a moment in a silent exchange and Thorin knows he's done for.

“As nice as I'm sure that pony is, Kíli, the answer is still no.” 

Kíli turns and looks up at his uncle with dark puppy-dog eyes. He knows most adults can't resist this particular look, and uses it to its full advantage. “Please?”

Thorin refuses to look at his youngest nephew. “I said no.”

“But Uncle Thorin.” It's Fíli this time. “If we're to travel with you, then we'll need to learn to ride.”

Thorin can't argue with the logic. “That's true, but-”

“-And it would be a good way for Kíli to learn responsibility.” Fíli supplies with a dimpled smile.

“Please, Uncle Thorin!” Kíli adds a pouting lip to the puppy-dog eyes. “I love him!”

Thorin finally cracks under the combined weight of cuteness and logic. “Your mother is going to have my hide for this.”

…

“I'm gonna braid his mane and feed him apples and race him around!” Kíli ticks off the list on his fingers.

“What about keeping him brushed, and trimming his hooves, and mucking his stall?” Thorin reminds him. “We agreed that you lads are responsible for this pony.”

Both boys look up at their uncle, equal parts stoic and sweet. “Yes, Uncle.” 

Thorin sighs, knowing this isn't going to end well for him. “Have you decided on a name for the beast?”

“Francis!” Kíli shrieks, causing both his uncle and brother to regard him skeptically.

“Francis?” Thorin opens his mouth to refute the name, then shuts it again. “Francis.”

Fíli rolls his eyes and pulls his brother into a quick hug.

…

By the time the pony is delivered to their house later that week, both boys are beside themselves with excitement. 

For his part, Francis is completely underwhelmed by the whole experience. The pony chomps aimlessly at his bit as Thorin shows the boys how to slowly approach without startling the beast.

“You never want to walk up behind a pony- he might get scared and kick you. Dwarves may have thick skulls, but a pony hoof can still hurt.” Thorin smirks. “Just ask Mister Dwalin about that...”

“Once you get close enough, you want to hold out your hand for the pony to smell. If you've got a treat for him, you want to keep your hand flat so he can lip it up.” Thorin demonstrates, holding his hand palm-up with a sugar cube on it. Francis takes the treat and crunches it happily. “See, nothing to it.”

Fíli is the first to try, walking slowly with his hand outstretched. Up close the pony is bigger then he expects, but it pays no attention to his slow movements and soon he is at his uncle's side.

“Now, give him a treat.” Thorin places a sugar-cube on his nephew's extended hand. “Just like I showed you.” Frances takes the treat and a pat on his velvet muzzle, then goes back to ignoring them. “Good, Fíli!”

“My turn now!” Kíli smiles brightly.

“Alright, lad. Slowly now.” Thorin watches his youngest nephew in amusement.

Kíli moves forward slowly, much to the surprise of both his uncle and brother. His dark eyes sparkle wildly and before Thorin can stop him, the dwarfling throws his arms around the pony's neck. “Francis!”

The previously uninterested pony springs to life, rearing on its hind legs and sending the young dwarf flying. Thorin moves to calm the pony, while Fíli rushes to his brother's side.

“Kili!” He gathers his brother in his arms. “Are you alright?”

“What happened?” Kíli blinks in confusion.

“I told you to move slowly around the pony, lad.” Thorin sighs. “You can't be too loud or rush at him.”

Kíli scrunches up his face. “Francis doesn't like me!”

Snuggling his brother to his side Fíli frowns. “That's not true. Everyone likes you Kíli.”

“Everyone but Francis!” His lower lip quivers. “Ponies are stupid!”

Fíli strokes his brother's head soothingly, whispering gentle affirmations into Kíli's ear.

Thorin grumbles slightly, then sets to work getting the pony settled in its new stall.

…

It takes a fortnight before Kíli will get back into the paddock with the pony. 

...

Over time, Thorin teaches the boys to groom the pony and care for its tack. They take to brushing and braiding with ease, but find the everyday tasks of shoveling hay and mucking stalls dreadful. Just as Thorin feared, they turn their charms on him- all logic and dimples and puppy-dog-eyes- and he soon finds himself agreeing that yes, they _are_ too little for such tasks.

They both learn to ride, Fíli with focused grace and Kíli with wild abandon, though the younger usually prefers to stay tucked behind his brother in the saddle.

Francis grows lean and muscular, his shaggy coat shines, and even Thorin admits his mane is slightly majestic. 

Fíli and Kíli love the pony with the open frankness of youth, and the devotion of a dwarven heart. When the time comes for Francis to be put out to pasture, they whisper fond farewells and hide their tears in his mane. Francis is the first of many ponies the brothers own in their lives- and while they hold a measure of fondness for each of them, none ever compare to the memory of their childhood pony.

 

\--

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have head!cannon where Kíli doesn't get along well with ponies. In 'Soul Forge' he complains about them on the way to the Shire, and then gets pulled into the river and almost drowned by one. In the film we have the trolls stealing the ponies while he's on watch (should I write that scene?). I imagine he isn't too happy about borrowing ponies from Beorn either. :) Also, I do believe he would name every pony he ever owns Francis.
> 
>  
> 
> **If you've got an idea for a prompt- leave it in the comments! It can be from the book, the movie, or even an idea about the boys growing up.**


	3. Braids

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli never learns to braid his own hair. Kíli never braids his hair at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **This chapter is dedicated to everyone who reviews/follows this story! Happy Valentine's Day, my darlings. I love you all!**

**Three: Braids**  
Prompt: Braid meanings.  
OP: 1monster2

…

 

Fíli never masters braiding his own hair, though it's not from lack of trying. No matter how much time he spends trying to replicate the simplest braids on himself, they always turns out lumpy and off-centered. 

It's surprising then, when Fíli realizes he has an uncanny knack for braiding the hair of other dwarves. Not just the simple three-strand that his mother first taught him, but the complex fishtails and herringbones and inversions. He spends many contented evenings standing behind his mother's chair, plaiting her hair into various designs while she teaches him the meanings behind each braid. 

“The crowning braid shows that I'm from the line of Durin.” Dís tells him, as he weaves a length of her hair from ear to ear. “Your brother will wear one when he reaches his majority.”

“But not me?” Fíli raises a brow.

“You are Thorin's heir.” She smiles softly. “Your braids tell a different story.”

“The box braids.” He fingers the two thin braids framing his face. “Uncle Thorin wears them too.”

“You're a quick study. Yes, those braids are worn by the heir to the throne.” Dís pauses, waiting for the implications to set in.

“But Uncle is king, not heir.” Fíli frowns slightly. “Oh. He wears the heir braids because we have no kingdom.”

“Yes! Once we take back Erebor Thorin will braid his hair in the manner befitting of a king.” She laughs gently. “Though, I doubt he will ever wear the monarch's plait in his beard. It seems too stuffy for the likes of him.”

Fíli grins. “It's Uncle Thorin. He'll probably grow his beard long and simply tuck it into his belt.”

Both mother and son smile, and their laughter fills the room.

…

Kíli never plaits his hair, much to the chagrin of his mother and uncle. He says that the braids are distracting, that they pull on his scalp and irritate him. They believe he is too immature to understand the importance of the braids to their people, and that he will grow into them with time. Fíli sees that his brother's hair is as fierce and untamed as Kíli himself, and wouldn't wouldn't have it any other way.

In truth, Kíli never plans on wearing braids. He still remembers a day from his childhood, where he hurt Fíli's feelings by making fun of his lopsided first braids. Even though he was very young, he decided that day to leave his hair unbound as a reminder to himself of the importance of brotherhood. Fíli has long since forgiven him for the slight, but it makes no difference to Kíli; for him, the unbound hair has become a pledge of devotion.

All dwarves learn the most basic braids and Kíli is no exception. He sits quietly, pretending to listen, while his mother tells him about braid lore. When the time comes to practice, Kíli begs his brother to sit beside him and he learns to plait in Fíli's golden hair.

…

It becomes part of their routine for Kíli to braid his brother's hair. He never learns to do the more complex styles, but Fíli doesn't seem to mind.

Kíli twists plaits into the hair at either side of his brother's face- the heir braids. “Hold still, Fee. You're going to make them crooked.”

“Bossy, aren't we?” Fíli laughs, but stills his movements.

“You're ugly enough without adding lopsided braids to the mix!” Kíli's eyes sparkle. 

“Look who's talking, brother!” Fíli smirks. “Soon enough my mustache will be long enough to braid, and you're still smooth as a wee babe!”

If Kíli pulls a little too hard at his brother's hair, it's because Fíli must have moved.

“Sorry!” The elder cringes. “No need to pull so hard!” 

Kíli works deftly on the second set of box braids. “You've never told me what these two mean.”

“I thought you didn't care for braid lore?” Fíli raises a brow.

“I don't, really. I just want to be sure you're not having me give you courting plaits or anything.” He grins as Fíli elbows him in the stomach.

“They're nothing really, just apprentice braids. In my case, apprenticed to the king.” Fíli shrugs. “I only wear them because they keep the hair out of my face.”

Kíli jokingly ties the two braids together in a bow. “There. Now you look lovely.”

Fíli glances in the mirror and laughs. “You do good work, little brother. I think you've found your true calling.”

“They _are_ the best braids in the whole wide world, you know.” Kíli says with a wink.

Fíli grins mischievously. “Now it's my turn! Turn around, you.” 

“What?” Kíli looks confused. “Why?

“I'm going to plait your hair.” Fíli's eyes shine. “Just for tonight, then you can take them out.”

Kíli sighs, not having the heart to tell his brother no. “Fine.”

Smiling, Fíli settles behind his brother, working his fingers through the dark tresses. It takes him a few minutes to work out all the tangles, and another few to part the curls into proper segments.

He starts with a crown braid, wrapping it along his brother's hairline from ear to ear. “This says you're from the line of Durin.” 

“And this...” He braids a herringbone down the center of Kíli's head. “This says you're a scout. An archer.”

Next come two box braids, which match his own. “You're apprenticed to Thorin, the same as I am.”

The final braid is so small is can hardly be seen- a simple three-stand tucked behind Kíli's left ear.

“What's that one for, Fee?” He reaches up to touch the tiny braid.

Fíli blushes slightly. “That one means you're my best friend. My brother.”

“Oh.” He nods, unsure of what to say. “So... do I get to look in the mirror now?”

“Of course!” Fíli grabs the looking glass and hands it to his brother.

Looking in the mirror, Kíli lets out an undignified squawk. “W-what did you do to me?!” 

Fíli takes one look at his brother's face, as well as the monstrosity on his head, and dissolves into a fit of laughter. “Mahal help me, Kíli. I'm sorry!” He tries unsuccessfully to stop laughing. “I think it's best that you don't wear braids!”

The laughter is contagious, and soon Kíli is doubled over against his brother. “Please don't think me rude for ruining all your hard work, but these _have_ to go!” He quickly loosens the larger braids, tugging on his hair until it reaches its normal unfettered state. Reaching for the smallest braid Kíli pauses a moment, then leaves it be, shifting the rest of his hair to cover it.

...

Fíli never masters braiding his own hair, but it doesn't bother him. Not when his sure-fingered brother sits beside him at night and plaits his hair into cords of gold. And though neither mentions it, when Fíli notices a tiny new braid tucked behind his ear he can't help but smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are so many awesome braid fics that I was a little leery to try one of my own! Did you guys like it?
> 
> If you haven't read 'Soul Forge' yet, I'd suggest you go over and at least read chapter two- where Fíli gets his first braids and Kíli makes fun of him.
> 
> **As always- if you've got any sort of a prompt for this story, let me know in the comments!**


	4. Dragon-Sickness

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Deep in Erebor, something lurks in the mindof the king.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the amazing comments about the other chapters! I'm having so much fun with these! Now... on to our first angsty prompt!

**Four: Dragon-Sickness**   
Prompt: Angst about Fíli and Kíli's time in Erebor, after the Arkenstone business, when Thorin is half-mad with gold-sickness.  
OP: NammiKisulora

…

Erebor is theirs, but even in this victory a darkness lurks. Something grows deep within the King Under the Mountain, a sickness in his mind that burns hotter than any forge and runs deeper than any mine.

Fíli is used to watching his uncle; he does so without thinking, a habit arising from a lifetime of adoration and tutelage. He is used to watching, and so he notices the changes that germinate within Thorin. They start slowly- a visceral reaction, the repetitive murmurs, a strange gleam in his eyes. A fear grows in Fíli's chest that he cannot put a name to. It isn't until men come to the gates, demanding recompense for their people that the change becomes tangible. In an instant the happy, laughing uncle who has spent the last days exploring the mountain with them is gone. Instead of kindness, Thorin responds with aggravated threats of arrows and sieges. He hordes the riches of the mountain, much like the dragon before him, and curses anyone who suggests the wealth should be shared. As soon as the men are gone, Thorin disappears into the treasure room, muttering quietly to himself.

Fíli has heard the stories of his great-grandfather. He knows what dragon-sickness is and he sees it in his uncle's face.

…

Thorin bides his time by having the dwarves explore the halls of the mountain and sort through piles of treasure. Too soon it becomes apparent what he is truly after.

“The Arkenstone of my father is worth more than a river of gold in itself, and to me is beyond price.” Thorin bellows, shifting through a pile of gems and discarding each one in turn. “We must find it!”

The dwarves of the company rally at his call, spreading throughout the chamber and searching in earnest for the Heart of the Mountain. But a single jewel, however resplendent, proves impossible to find in a room filled with gemstones. After a time, each of the dwarves return to their own pursuits, and Thorin is left alone in his hunt.

“It must be here. It cannot be gone.” Thorin frets, pacing around the hall with a manic drive. “It is small... smaller than a Hobbit's fist... though not by much...” He tugs wildly on the end of his beard. “Multifaceted... glowing with its own pale light...” A chest is upended, the contents dumped unceremoniously across the ground. “When light falls upon it the stone changes into ten thousand sparks of white radiance shot with glints of the rainbow...” Thorin kicks a scale breastplate out of the way. “I remember it from my youth... I remember it... It must be here...”

Fíli catches his brother's eye and motions slightly towards an empty side-chamber. His brother nods grimly and they move out of earshot of the king.

“Uncle Thorin has lost it.” Kíli states the second they're alone. “He's flat out lost it!”

Fíli sighs.“It is dragon-sickness.”

“Are you sure?” Kíli frowns. 

“You know the stories as well as I do, brother.” Fíli scuffs the toe of his boot across the stone floor. “We both saw the way he went off about the Arkenstone.”

They stand silent for a long moment, neither sure of what to say.

“What do we do?” It is Kíli who breaks the silence, looking to his brother for an answer.

“I do not know.” Fíli shrugs. “There are men and elves at our doorstep. Thorin is courting war.”

“We are but thirteen against hundreds. There is no way we could win that battle.”

“Then we will not fight.” There is fire in Fíli's eyes. “We will think of another plan!”

“What if we give the men our share of the treasure?” Kíli wonders out loud.

“That might stay their hand, but it would infuriate Uncle.” Fíli growls in frustration. “The sickness has taken all rational sense from him. He would see it as a traitorous move.”

“Does he not realize we already have all the treasure we need?” Kíli's voice shakes. “We have Erebor and each other! What use is gold?”

Fíli kicks at the wall. “It is the Arkenstone. Uncle is obsessed.”

“He has gone mad!” Kíli rakes a hand through his hair. “Will he have us die over a shiny rock!? Treasure is of no use to the dead!”

“If it comes to that I believe he will.” Fíli shakes his head slowly. “His mind is lost and he will see no reason.”

“Then we will go to war.” Kíli says softly.

“Then we will go to war.” Fíli agrees, his eyes dark.

The distant sound of voices filters in from the other room, but neither brother pays heed. Instead, they lean against the cold stone wall, shoulder-to-shoulder, each lost in his own thoughts.

Finally, Kíli can bear the silence no longer. “I don't want to die, Fee.” He whispers.

Fíli pulls his brother into a crushing hug, nestling the younger dwarf tightly against his chest. “You won't, brother. I won't let you.”

It is a long while before either of them let go.

…

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I was super-excited about this prompt! It's sort of the missing moment in Soul Forge between 'The Princes of Erebor' and 'Darkness Falls' (chapters 9 & 10)... something I toyed around with writing, but never did. 
> 
> The prompt actually was supposed to take place AFTER Bilbo gives away the Arkenstone, but writing crazy!Thorin was a nice change from writing angry!Thorin, so here we are. I hope the OP still likes it...
> 
>  
> 
> **I have seven chapters (mostly) written, but then I'm just about out of prompts. If there's something you'd like to see- leave me a comment!**


	5. Shadows

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Kíli learn to cast their own shadows.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the reviews and prompts! You darlings are amazing!

**Four: Shadows**  
Prompt: Kíli follows Fíli everywhere. Except for when his brother is actually looking for him.   
OP: ave-mah

…

For as long as he can remember, Fíli has had two shadows. The first is the same shadow everyone has- a dark blob of a shape, that follows his movements and changes depending on his relation to the closest light source. The second shadow is equally as dark and also mimics his movements, but this shadow takes the form his younger brother, Kíli. 

Wherever Fíli goes, Kíli is there. There are precious few dwarven children around, and most days the brothers are left to play by themselves. They race around the yard- wrestling in the grass, pretend-fighting with sticks, and playing endless games of hide-and-go-seek. At night they tuck into their shared bed, Fíli whispering stories to his brother in the darkness.

Whatever Fíli does, Kíli imitates. Whether refusing to wear a hat in rainy weather or referring to their beloved uncle as “Uncle Bore-in”, whatever the older brother decides to do, the younger one copies. When Fíli decides he's too old to snuggle on their mother's lap, Kíli follows suit. When, less then a week later, Fíli changes his mind, Kíli happily complies.

...

Kíli doesn't have a shadow. Or rather, he never notices it, because he is too busy watching his older brother. He is happy to let Fíli make the first move, content to follow behind.

It's not that Kíli doesn't have his own ideas, but more so that Fíli is older and always seems to come up with the better schemes. When they find a downed tree near the river, it is Fíli who decides it will make a perfect bridge, and Kíli who ends up soaking wet. If they notice pie cooling on the window ledge, it is Fíli who suggests that he swipe it while Kíli distracts their mother. When they look through their bedroom window and see the perfect full moon, it is Fíli who thinks to sneak out, and Kíli who races with him in the moonlight.

No matter what, it is always Fíli-and-Kíli, two sides of the same coin. Light and dark. The sun and his shadow.

...

Long before the boys start their official weapons training, they are taught the basics along with the other children in town. 

Fíli takes to swordplay with a quiet focus, relishing in the natural affinity he seems to have for the skill. He spends the first weeks of the lessons squaring off against a practice dummy- thrusting and parrying with his wooden sword. 

Kíli spends those same first weeks struggling in his brother's wake. He doesn't have the same skill with swords and for the first time he cannot keep up with Fíli's actions, cannot be a proper shadow.

...

The thing about shadows is that you tend to take them for granted until they aren't there. The same thing goes for little brothers.

“Brother! Did you see that?” Fíli is exceptionally pleased when he completes a spectacular bout with the practice dummy. “One day I'm going to go down in history as a famous warrior! Whole kingdoms will tell tales of my bravery!” 

He is met with silence.

“Kíli?” Turning, Fíli notices his brother is absent. “Kíli?!”

He looks around the practice field, searching for the tell-tale mess of dark hair, but his brother is no where to be seen.

“Have you seen my brother?” Trying not to panic, Fíli rushes to ask the other children.

“You have a brother?” Questions a red haired boy.

“You mean the little one who dogs after you?” Asks a small girl.

“Yes. My brother.” Fíli huffs. “He's littler than me, with wild dark hair and dark eyes.”

“Oh, you mean the archer?” Says the boy.

“Archer?” Fíli scrunches his nose in confusion. “No, I mean my little brother. He's always here with me.”

“Yeah, that's who I mean.” The child points. “Try the archery range.”

Yelling a hurried thanks, Fíli runs off in the direction the boy points, hoping to find Kíli. 

...

Kíli is alone on the archery range when Fíli gets there. He stands perfectly still, a small dwarven short bow drawn at the ready. Brow furrowed in concentration, he closes one eye closed as his lines up the shot. Loosing the arrow, Kíli holds his position, watching as his shot flies and hits its mark. Bulls-eye.

“Kíli.” The word is no more than a whisper, but his brother hears his name and turns.

“Fee!” Kíli is all smiles when he sees his brother. “Did you see me make the shot?”

Fíli doesn't answer, just stares at his brother.

“Fee?” The smile is gone, replaced by hesitation, then a panicked look of shame. “I'm sorry! I won't do it again! I'll stick with swords and axes and stuff! I shouldn't have even tried the bow!”

He's interrupted by his brother's amazed laugh. “Can you do it again?”

“What?” Kíli asks, bewildered.

“Can you do it again?” Fíli points across the field. “You know, shoot the target.”

Kíli nods quickly and nocks another arrow. “Yeah.” He takes aim and lets the arrow fly, lowering his bow only when the shot hits its mark.

“That's brilliant!” Fíli slings an arm around his brother's shoulder.

“Really?” Kíli worries his lip. “It's not too elf-like?”

“Elf-like?! Psh! No elf could do that!” Fíli grins. “Why didn't you tell me you wanted to try archery?”

Kíli ducks his head. “You wanted to learn swords.”

“That doesn't mean you have to learn them too.” Fíli frowns.

“But I always do what you do.” His eyes are dark with worry. “I didn't want you to be mad, Fee.”

“Mad? How could I be mad at you for wanting to do something you're good at!”

Kíli shrugs. “We just always do things together...”

“Well, we're still having weapons practice at the same time... We're just using different weapons.” Fíli nods, encouragingly.

“I guess so.” Kíli seems to be considering this. “And I do want to learn to use a sword... Just not all the time.”

“I can help teach you!” Fíli grins. “And maybe you can show me to shoot a bow sometime.”

Kíli tucks his head again his brother's shoulder. “So you're not mad at me for being different then you?”

“I like that you're different than me, dunderhead!” He knocks their forehead's together lightly. “It makes us a better team.”

“Really?” Kíli smile is hopeful.

“Sure! Some day, when we're famous adventurers on an important quest, you'll be able to shoot the bad guys from far away! And I'll be able to stab any of them that you miss!”

“As long as we're together no one will be able to touch us!” Kíli laughs brightly. “We'll be invincible!” 

…

On the way home from practice, Fíli tells his brother how proud he is of his talent at archery. Kíli expresses admiration at his brother's swordsmanship, and they walk side-by-side with matching smiles on their faces. When the sun hits them just right, two shadows spring out from their feet- one with braids and a practice sword, the other with wild hair and a bow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I managed to make myself sad at the end by foreshadowing a scene in 'Soul Forge'. -pathetic-
> 
> **As always- reviews are awesome and leave any prompts for this story in the comments. :)**


	6. Crushed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli's first crush. Aww!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my darlings! Thank you all so SO much for your comments and kudos on the last chapters. You're all amazing!

**Six: Crushed**  
Prompt: Falling in love or first crushes.  
OP: awkwardcurlytop

…

 

“I have a problem.” Is the first thing out of Kíli's mouth when he returns to the forge after running a delivery.

“Please don't tell me you lost Master Tombi's cloak clasp!” It's happened before- more than once- and Fíli is not in the mood to deal with his brothers excuses.

“No! That's not it at all!” Kíli insists, digging in his coat to produce the payment. “Tombi loved the clasp. Even payed us an extra gold for the work.” He dumps the coins into the till on the counter.

Fíli nods, pleased at the compliment. “He better have liked it. I worked two afternoons to get the damnable cusp laying right.” 

“Your hard work payed off, because he's offered us another job.” Kíli pauses a moment, worrying his lip between his teeth. “His daughter, Brís is coming of age and he would like a silver clip for her hair.”

“Why don't you take that commission, brother. With your skill in silver you'll make good work of it.” Fíli glances at his brother. “Kíli? Are you blushing?”

“Shut it!” The ears of the younger dwarf are a bright red that spreads slowly to his cheeks. 

“You said you had a problem, and now you're blushing over a job.” Fíli sighs, regarding his brother skeptically. “Did something happen? What did you do?”

“Nothing!” Kíli rubs a hand over the back of his head, obviously embarrassed. “Ijustsortoflikeher.”

The words run together and Fíli frowns, trying to interpret them. “Come again?”

“I said, I just sort of like her.” This time the words are clear, though spoken so soft they're barely more than a whisper.

Fíli's brows disappear into his hairline. “You... like her? Brís?” Kíli nods. “Oh. Okay then.”

“You think it's mad, don't you?” Kíli's hesitation makes him sound younger than he is, and Fíli can't help but remember his brother as a small child- always looking to him for affirmation.

“I don't think it's mad at all, brother. I'm sure Brís is a rather comely dwarf...” Fíli vaguely remembers the woman in question, but assumes his brother has good taste.

“Rather comely?!” Kíli surges forward at the perceived insult. “Brís is much more than comely! She is sturdy and sure, with a beard that gleams like the darkest obsidian, and eyes that put the most brilliant sapphires to shame!” Fíli bites back an amused snort as his brother continues. “Her voice is rough and soft all at once, and her hands are beautifully calloused from working in the mines! She is a rare jewel, even among dwarves!”

Fíli nods, not trusting himself to speak without laughing at his brother's impassioned speech.

“She lights a fire in my soul that burns hotter than the brightest forge.” Kíli sighs wistfully, his face falling. “And I know not what to do.”

“Does she know you fancy her?” Fíli manages, after a deep breath.

“No!” Kíli looks horrified at the thought. “Of course not! How could she know?”

Fighting back a smile, Fíli questions his brother. “Have you actually ever talked to her?”

The younger dwarf looks down in embarrassment. “No. I wouldn't know what to say.” 

“How about 'Hello'? Maybe complement her beard?” Fíli shrugs. “I'm afraid I'm not going to be much help.”

“Surely you've courted a girl before!” Kíli looks surprised. “Your beard is growing in nicely and your nose is very large. You carry all the traits a dwarven woman could possibly want.” 

“Because you know so well what dwarven women want, brother.” Fíli laughs. “We are always together. Don't you think you would have noticed if I were courting someone?”

“I suppose so.” Kíli concedes. “But why don't you? Surely there are many women who vie for a chance with the future king of Erebor.”

Fíli sighs and regards his brother for a moment before speaking. “That's exactly the problem. I am Thorin's heir.”

“So? It's not like he has a kingdom. We're the heirs of naught.” Kíli shrugs, obviously unconcerned about their titles as princes.

“You know he plans to take back Erebor, and when he does we will be princes.” Fíli toys absently with one of his braids. “As next in line for the throne, I have to expect that he will arrange a political marriage for me.”

Kíli falls silent.

“You should go talk to Brís.” Fíli nudges his brother with his shoulder. “If her beard is as fetching as you say, then you should hurry before someone else decides to court her.”

“It doesn't matter.” Kíli shrugs. “Why should I be free to chase after a woman when my brother is not?”

“For the very fact that you are allowed!” Fíli's eyes are shining. “Because it is your duty as youngest to cause all the mischief you can, and to experience all the things I cannot!” 

“But that's not fair!” Kíli rakes a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Life isn't fair, brother, but that's the way it is.” Fíli smiles softly. “It's alright. I've made my peace with it.”

Kíli frowns, his eyes dark and heavy. “You should be able to have everything you desire. You shouldn't have to settle for an arranged marriage based on a useless title.”

“As long as I have you by my side, to keep me sane, then I'll have all I could possibly want.”

Kíli looks at his brother with unabashed adoration. “Fee...”

“Just be sure to share all your stories with me, so that I can live vicariously through you!” The smile Fíli gives his brother is genuine. “Now, why don't you get working on that hair clip, so that you have an excuse to see her again...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The problem I have with Fíli and Kíli is that I can't make myself pair them with anyone else. It just doesn't work in my head! They go together and 'shipping them with someone feels really really wrong. I think that's why I sort of understand Durincest, even though it's not really my thing. Anyway- I tried to write first love, but it was really awkward and didn't work, so we have a crush and bro-chats instead!
> 
> Side note- I was half way through writing this when I remembered that a bris is the Jewish ceremony for circumcisions. I also have head!cannon for what happens when Kíli tries to woo her. Just saying...
> 
> **As always- reviews are what encourage me to write more (and update faster)! Please let me know what you think of this chapter! And if you've got a prompt, leave a comment and I'll see what I can do. :)**


	7. Fever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli gets sicks. Fíli takes care of him.

**Seven: Fever**  
Prompt: First cold/flu.  
OP: shinyadoll (Who has been sick herself, poor darling!)

…

Even as a child, Kíli is not a morning person. While his responsible older brother wakes on time and goes about his business, Kíli burrows back underneath the blankets and has to be awakened several times before he makes his way out of bed. He pouts and mutters and throws puppy dog eyes at anyone who tries to rouse him, proving to be a completely insufferable child. This is why the task of waking the young dwarf always falls to Fíli. The older boy always seems to know when to coddle or when to threaten, and inevitably both brothers arrive at breakfast with smiles on their faces.

“Where is your brother?” Dís asks when Fíli enters the kitchen alone.

“I couldn't get Kíli to wake up, mother.” His brow furrows slightly. “I think somethings wrong.”

“Wrong?” Dís raises a brow, knowing her oldest son is not prone to exaggeration. “What do you mean?”

Fíli frowns. “He wouldn't get up. He just sort of laid there. And his skin is all hot.”

Dís moves at once towards the bedroom her boys share, Fíli close at her heels.

“Kíli?” She pokes lightly at the tiny child bundled up under the blankets. “Are you feeling well?”

“No.” Kíli's face peers out from the blankets, his cheeks unnaturally rosy.

“Mahal help us.” Dís presses a hand his forehead. “You're burning up, my jewel.”

Kíli makes a soft mewling sound and burrows deeper under the covers. 

“My poor little one.” She tucks the blankets tighter around her youngest son. 

“Is he going to be alright?” Fíli whispers to his mother, casting a worried look at his baby brother.

“Kíli needs a tonic to help bring the fever down.” Dís sighs. “I'll need to run to town to purchase one, but I hate to leave him alone.”

Fíli stands up straighter. “Kíli is never alone- he has me!”

“Then you must make sure he rests. I won't be gone long.” She offers her eldest a small smile. “Keep him covered up, and try to get him to drink some water.”

“I will, mother.” He vows, looking so serious and sure that Dís cannot help give him a proud hug before rushing off to town.

…

“My throat hurts, Fee.” Kíli rasps, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You need to drink some water.” Fíli helps his brother into a sitting position and holds the mug to his lips. “Drink, Kíli...” The younger boy sips at the water, wincing as it coats his raw throat.

Kíli whimpers, sinking back down onto the mattress. “Cold.”

Fíli climbs onto the bed, tucking himself next to his brother. “We'll get you warmed up.

“I'm sick.” Kíli pouts, his eyes glossy.

“I know, brother.” He puts his arm around the younger dwarf, pulling him close. “I'm sorry you don't feel well.”

Kíli makes a distraught noise and buries his face in his brother's neck.

“Shh...” Fíli brushes the damp hair back from his brother's forehead. “It's alright. I'm here.”

“Hurts, Fee.” His face is flushed with fever.

“I know it does.” Fíli wraps both arms around his brother, feeling the younger boy shiver. “I promise you'll get better soon.”

Kíli nods, trusting his brother. “Good.”

“Yes, good.” Fíli smiles softly, pressing his cool forehead against his brother's feverish one.

“Story, Fee?” His voice sounds raw and scratchy. “Please?”

“Of course, brother.” Thinking for a moment, Fíli begins his tale. “Long ago, when Arda was new, fourteen Valar came into the world to save it from the darkness. They forged the world with plants and music and light, making it ready for the Children of Ilúvatar.”

“Elves and men.” Kíli whispers, his eyelashes beginning to droop.

“Yes, elves and men.” Fíli grins as his brother's hand reaches up to tangle in his braids. “Mahal knew another race was needed so he created the dwarves, and Ilúvatar gave us life.”

By the time the story gets to the dwarves waking on Arda, Kíli is fast asleep, his small chest rising and falling in short even breaths. Fíli cradles him close, feeling the warmth of his brother's feverish skin through his shirt. When Dís returns from town with the tonic, both boys are snoring lightly and Kíli's fever has broken. She rouses him to take a dose of medicine, but then leaves him to rest and his brother ministrations. 

The next morning, both boys trudge in to the kitchen for breakfast, looking a little worn out, but wearing matching smiles on their faces.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt actually spawned two drabbles. The second baby-dwarf-sick-fic will come in a few chapters. Please let me know what you thought of this one! :)
> 
>  
> 
> **And leave any prompts you have in the comments section- I've got 13 chapters worth right now, but after that... *shrugs***


	8. Stone Giants

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili almost looses his brother to the Stone Giants, then almost looses himself.

**Eight: Stone Giants**  
Prompt: Fíli and Kíli get separated in the Stone Giants scene.  
OP: Scarlett's Fics

…

 

When the mountain splits between his feet, Kíli moves without thinking, pulling himself safely to one side of the divide. Too late he realizes that he chose wrong, that his movements have separated himself from his brother. _Kíli! Grab my hand!_ They are never apart- can never be apart- and his soul heaves as he reaches desperately for Fíli. For one blinding moment he contemplates jumping- imagines the flight and the fall and the safety of his brother's arms. But the gap is too far, and he can do nothing but watch as his brother is pulled away from him.

The mountain rises beneath them, giving way to a giant made of living stone, who fights and breaks and crumbles and pays them no heed. He tries to watch Fíli through the storm- sees his brother clinging frantically to the cliff face- but quickly looses sight in the midst of rain and falling rocks and the sounds of screams. 

Thorin is near him, barking orders, and urging them on. Someone grabs at his coat, pulling him forward, and they stumble onto a solid ridge of stone just as the giant heaves itself into combat. But his brother is still trapped and Kíli cannot breathe, only reach a hand helplessly into the darkness. 

The giant takes a hit and staggers, bringing the two parts of the company parallel with each other. Fíli is close enough to see, but still too far to save. Kíli catches his brother's eye for a brief moment, and tries to convey too much in a look that is probably lost in din of the storm. There is a fear in his brother's eyes that mirrors his own. Panic and bile rise in his throat, and all he can do is watch and pray.

Then the stone giant falls, and all thoughts leave his mind. Kíli sees the place his brother stands crushed into the mountainside, and watches the empty pathway fall into the abyss. He feels his heart stop dead in his chest. The others rush forward, but he cannot move. 

Fíli. Bright golden Fíli. Whose steady shoulders keep him grounded, whose words can calm his temper. His partner in mischief. Fíli. Food, and warmth, and shelter, and love. The sunlight to his shadow. His beloved brother. Gone.

He screams himself hoarse, his brother's name falling like a prayer from his lips. This is not how it's supposed to end. This is not the way their story goes. It's supposed to be Fíli-and-Kíli, always together. They are supposed to re-take Erebor and become true princes and live out their lives by each others sides. They are supposed to live.

Kíli screams and screams until _They're alive!_ breaks through his defenses and his heart starts beating again.

But there is no time for reunions as they surge forward across the mountain, and no time for rest until they are tucked into a cave deep in the cliff-side.

Kíli sinks to the ground in the back of the cave, chest heaving in silent sobs. He is broken; words spill out from between his lips- terms of endearment, promises, reassurances, pleading, and begging, and praying until Fíli pulls him close. It is not enough and too much and for a moment Kíli forgets how to breathe. He clings tightly to his brother, trembling as if he's afraid they might be separated again.

“It's all right, brother. I'm here.” Fíli's words are soft, but laced with fear and worry. “I'm here.”

Rocking himself in his brother's embrace, Kíli cries _I'm sorry, I'm sorry_ , and _I thought I lost you_ , and _please don't leave me alone_. His words are an imperfect mantra, cracked and faulty and so much like their lives now that it hurts to speak them. They shouldn't have agreed to this quest, they should never have left their home. He cries until there are no tears left, until his eyes burn and his throat is raw. He cries because he can not protect his brother, because he can't hold himself together, because he now knows something can tear them apart. 

“Brother.” There is so much in that word- empathy, sadness, regret, love- he knows Fíli understands as he buries his face in the crook of his brother's neck.

“I am here, brother. I will not leave you.” Kíli heeds his brother's words, but they both know it's a promise he can no longer make. His thoughts betray him, whispering doubt into his mind. _You might leave me. You might be taken away. You might die._

In the end, all they can do is hold each other tight, try to hold themselves together, and offer everything they have. 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This prompt was difficult. Insanely difficult. So many people have done fics based on this scene and I really wanted to find a twist to make this unique. I'm not sure I succeeded. I do think, however, that this should satisfy you angst lovers. Also, this is my first Kili-based chapter... which was actually felt a little weird to write...
> 
>  
> 
> **As always- please let me know what you thought of the chapter- and leave any prompts you might have in the comments! :)**


	9. Thunderstorms

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tiny dwarves in a thunderstorm. <3

**Nine: Thunderstorms**  
Prompt: We've been having weird weather. I wanted to write baby dwarves in a storm.  
OP:

…

Kíli jerks suddenly awake as the bedroom flashes brightly in the night. Blinking in confusion, he sits up and peers into the darkness, pulling the blankets tightly around his shoulders. Another flash of light, followed by a crack of thunder and the sound of rain pelting against the glass of the window alerts Kíli to the storm outside. In the bed beside him, Fíli is curled up under the blankets, snoring lightly, and oblivious to the weather. 

Across the room, the hearth is cold, fire having died out some time in the night. Shivering in the darkness, Kíli chews lightly on the side of his thumb and wonders if it would be okay to wake up his brother. The wind whips through the trees, branches scraping against the side of the house, and casting shadows like great claws in the moonlight. Kíli lets out a small shriek and pulls the covers over his head.

“Kíli? Brother?” Fíli's voice is soft over the din of the rain. “Are you alright?”

The younger dwarf peers out from his blanket cocoon, his dark eyes wide as another bolt of lightning hits.

“Are you scared? I'm a little scared.” Fíli admits, sitting up and regarding him in the darkness.

Kíli nods silently, scooting closer to huddle against his brother.

“It's just a storm. A storm can't hurt us.” The elder says, half to himself.

A sound outside their door makes both boys jump, Fíli pushing his brother behind him. “Shh!”

“What is it, Fee?” Kíli's voice is barely a whisper.

“Dunno.” Fíli shrugs, trying to hide the fear in his voice. “Whatever it is, I won't let it hurt you.”

“What if it's an orc?” Kíli whimpers. “I want mama!”

“Me too!” Fíli can feel his brother jump as another clap of thunder sounds.

The door opens and both boys scream, clinging to each other as a large figure looms towards them in the darkness.

“Boys?” The screaming stops instantly as two sets of eyes peek out from under the blankets.

“Mama?” Kíli is the first to respond, ducking out from under his brother's arm and barreling into his mother's embrace. “Mama!”

“It's alright, my jewels.” Dís whispers soothingly. “Did the storm frighten you?”

Fíli shrugs. “Kíli woke me up. He didn't like the lightening.”

“You were scared too, Fee!” The younger dwarf looks indignant. “You were!”

“A little, I guess.” Fíli picks absently at the blanket.

Dís smiles and settles herself on the bed, tucking Kíli in beside her. “Would you two like it if I slept in here tonight?”

“Yes, mama!” Kíli cheers, wiggling into a comfortable position.

Fíli hesitates a moment, then nods, snuggling down on the other side of his mother.

Dís tugs the blankets up over them and kisses each of her sons on their foreheads. “Goodnight, my jewels.”

“Goodnight, mama.” They chorus.

The storm continues on outside, punctuating the night with claps of thunder and flashes of lightning. Tucked safely into their warm bed, the night seems less frightening to the two boys. In the darkness, Kíli reaches across his mother and tangles his fingers into Fíli's hair. Heaving a contented sigh, he drifts slowly back to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Reviews, kudos, favorites and prompts make me happy!**


	10. First Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys make their first kills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Dead rabbit... just saying...

**Ten: First Blood**  
Prompt: Fíli and Kíli make their first kills.  
OP: 1monster2 and ScribeOfRED

…

Kíli is still a child when he makes his first kill, barely old enough to wield the bow he takes the life with. 

It's not a life or death situation; no warg charging in on his campsite, or orc threatening his family. In fact, there is no danger at all. Nor is it a planned event; no stag taken for meat on a hunting trip, or rabid mutt to be put out of its misery. No, Kíli's first kill happens by chance; a spur of the moment decision made by a child who hasn't taken the time to think before he acts.

Kíli stares off into the distance as dusk settles over the archery range. Though his brother is practicing his swordsmanship nearby, the young dwarf is alone and bored of shooting stationary targets with no one to show off for. He fiddles absently with the fletching on one of his arrows, hoping Fíli will be done soon so that they can go home. Catching sight of a movement out of the corner of his eye, Kíli peers intently into the gathering darkness. A large rabbit hops amongst the tall grass just behind the practice targets, its ears flickering slightly as it listens for signs of danger.

A determined look crosses Kíli's face as he nocks an arrow onto the bowstring. Pausing a moment, he thinks of how proud his brother will be that he hit a moving target, especially one as small as a rabbit! Drawing the bowstring back, he sights the arrow and lets it loose with a silent twang. At the slight sound the rabbit turns, almost in slow motion, and looks straight at him. Then the arrow finds its mark.

Lowering his bow, Kíli grins to himself, then hurries over to collect his prize. 

The arrow shaft has cut clear through the rabbit, effectively skewering it to the ground. Its eyes are dark and vacant, its fur sticky with blood. Kíli gulps, then reaches down to retrieve his arrow, which pulls out with a wet squelchy sound. Gagging at the sight, he kneels on the ground beside the rabbit, dark eyes filling with tears.

And that is how Fíli finds him, sitting with a bloody arrow in his hand, the dead carcass of a rabbit in the grass before him. His brother doesn't say a word, simply gathers Kíli up in his arms and lets him cry.

...

 

Fíli's first kill happens years later.

Thorin is with him on his second patrol outside the city, when they are set upon by a small band of goblins. The beasts come out of the trees very suddenly, and Fíli finds himself separated from the other dwarves. A goblin bears down on him, the blade of its ax gleaming in the sunlight. Training takes over and Fíli parries an oncoming blow with his sword, though it leaves him open to a sharp kick in the ribs. Fear speeds up his heart and shuts out the pain, but it also muddles his brain, making it difficult to focus. Ducking another blow he strikes upward, driving his sword deep into the goblin's chest and piercing its heart.

The other dwarves dispense of the remaining goblins, then pause to catch their breaths and tend to their wounds.

Fíli stands over the fallen body, looking down at the bloody gash in the goblin's chest. “I did that.” 

Thorin moves to his nephew’s side, watching him with thinly veiled concern. “You did.”

“I've never taken a life before.” His eyes are wide and dark.

“I know.” Thorin nods, sighing. “You did well.”

“It would have killed us all, if it had the chance.” Fíli rationalizes, half to himself. “Faced with the choice of it or me, I chose me.”

Thorin shrugs, placing a hand on his nephew's shoulder. “You did what you had to, lad.” 

“How do you do it, Uncle?” Fíli tears his eyes away from the corpse at his feet. “How do you kill without loosing faith in your own humanity?”

“You do your job.” Thorin smiles grimly. “You do it rapidly, efficiently, precisely, and with a great deal of pride in doing what you've been trained to do.”

“And that makes it alright?” He frowns, raking a hand through his disheveled hair.

Thorin shakes his head. “Not always, lad. But it helps.” They fall silent as the patrol moves on, and neither uncle nor nephew bring up the goblins again. 

It isn't until late that night, when Fíli is tucked safe in his own bed, that the memory resurfaces to keep him from sleep. It is Kíli, watching across the darkness from his own bed, who sees his unease. The mattress dips under the added weight of his brother. “I know, Fee.” He whispers as he wraps his arms around Fíli. “And I'm glad you're okay.” It is a long time, but sleep eventually claims them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had two requests for this prompt- I hope you guys liked it!!
> 
>  
> 
> **Comments, favorites and kudos make my world a happier place!  
>  Leave a prompt if you've got something you'd like to see!**


	11. Sick

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Young Fili and Kili get sick. Uncle Thorin has to take care of them.

**Eleven: Sick**  
Prompt: First cold/flu. (second fill for this prompt)  
OP: shinyadoll

…

Thorin should realized something is wrong the moment he opens the door and finds the house silent. His young nephews are always making some kind of noise- laughing at their private jokes, or singing the songs taught to them by their mother, or shouting at each other as they play fight in the yard. The boys are whirling balls of motion, who always greet him at the door with pent up energy after being stuck all day indoors.

The silence should worry him, but Thorin is too grateful for a respite after a long day at the forge. He makes his way to the kitchen, intent on having supper on the stove before his sister gets home from her trip into town. Before too long he has a hearty soup simmering and a loaf of bread on the table, ready to be sliced.

“Uncle Thorin?” Fíli shuffles into the kitchen, his golden hair sticking up in tousled waves.

Thorin's back is to his nephew, his attention directed at the dinner preparations. “Your mother should be home in just over an hour. Supper should be ready then.”

There is no answer and after a moment Thorin turns to look at his nephew. Dark circles ring Fíli's eyes and his skin is ghastly pale.

“Fíli?” Thorin's eyebrows furrow together. “What's going on?”

“Kíli is sick.” He hunches over, beads of sweat dotting his temples.

“Just Kíli?” Thorin looks at his oldest nephew in concern. “It appears you're ill as well.”

Fíli shivers and wraps his arms around his stomach. “I have to take care of Kíli.” His bare feet slide on the floor as he shuffles back into the bedroom, Thorin following close behind.

“Fe?” Kíli drags himself into a sitting position, his shoulders slumped tiredly. “I don't...” The younger dwarf hunches over the side of the bed, vomiting into a well-placed bucket.

Fíli promptly claps a hand over his mouth, his face taking on a slightly greenish hue.

Thorin frowns. “Alright. Get in bed, Fíli. Go on.”

Fíli shakes his head and takes a deep, steadying breath. “Have to take care of Kíli.”

“You're as sick as he is, lad, and twice as stubborn.” Thorin sighs. “Bed. Now.”

For a moment, Fíli thinks about objecting, but a sudden wave of nausea sloshing in his stomach changes his mind. Crawling into the bed next to his brother, he collapses in an exhausted heap.

Thorin regards his younger nephew anxiously. “How are you feeling?” 

“Cold.” Kíli blinks up at his uncle, eyes heavy.

Touching the back of his hand to Kíli's forehead, Thorin frowns. “You're burning up.” He pulls the blankets away from the boy.

Pouting, Kíli tries to tug the blankets back. “No. Cold.” 

“You're feverish.” Thorin grabs for the bucket, just in time for the young dwarf to lean off the edge of the bed and heave.

Kíli's dark hair is plastered to his forehead, his cheeks flushed unnaturally. “Urgh...” He moans, leaning back against the pillows with his arms crossed limply over his chest.

“You okay?” Fíli manages to roll onto his side, drawing his knees up to his chest, and regarding his brother.

Thorin brushes the hair back from Fíli's forehead, noting how pale his nephew's lips are.

“Sick, Fee.” Kíli mewls. “Hate being sick.”

Hunching over with one arm around his stomach, Fíli moans his agreement.

Thorin looks back and forth between his young nephews, unsure of what to do. “Should I bring anything? Something to drink? Some soup?”

At the mention of food, Kíli claps his hands over his mouth, entire body shaking. Fíli lunges for the bucket and vomits until he is gagging and dry heaving.

“Or not.” Thorin rubs the heel of his palm over Fíli's lower back, trying to soothe the boy.

Fíli whimpers, his breath coming out in shuttering gasps. Pulling himself back onto the bed, he crumples next to his brother, tucking himself against the younger dwarf's back. 

Thorin excuses himself from the room, taking a moment to empty out the bucket, and fetching a mug of water before returning. “You lads need to try and drink something.”

Fíli opens and shuts his mouth like a fish, unable to motivate himself to move. Kíli shakily pushes himself up on his elbows, sipping at the proffered water.

“You too, Fíli.” Thorin slides an arm behind his nephew, pulling him to a sitting position. Fíli makes a pinched face as his uncle presses the mug to his lips, urging him to drink. “There we are.” Satisfied, Thorin tucks the elder boy back beside his brother, smoothing the blankets over his shoulders.

Kíli's eyes flutter closed, his breath evening out as he drifts to sleep.

“Is he going to be alright?” Fíli peers up at his uncle, eyes slightly out of focus.

“Yes, he's sleeping now.” Thorin sighs. “You should be too, lad. Stop worrying about him.”

“Can't.” Snuggling closer to younger dwarf, Fíli yawns. “He's my brother.”

“And you'll be no good to him unless you get better.”

Murmuring his accord Fíli presses his forehead against the flushed skin at the back of his brother's neck and closes his eyes.

When Dís comes home, she finds the house much too quiet. Her two young sons are tucked into their bed, obviously ill. Fíli is still dreadfully pale, and Kíli's fever hasn't broken, but both boys are resting soundly. Thorin's smile is unusually soft as he watches his nephews, sitting beside their bed as they drift off into sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yup- I liked this prompt so much I wrote two fills. This might be one of my favorite chapters so far!!
> 
> I know the updates have been a little slower the last week or so. There are two reasons... The first is that I'm running a little low on prompts and am trying to stretch them out. The second reason is that I've been working really hard on a new multi-chapter fic. I'm hoping to have enough flushed out that I can start posting it by the end of the month. Keep your fingers crossed for me!
> 
>  
> 
> **Huge thanks to everyone who reads/reviews/prompts this! You guys are amazingly awesome and I love you all!**


	12. Competition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kíli is NOT competing with his brother for Thorin's attention. Really, he isn't...

**Twelve: Competition**  
Prompt: Kíli trying to prove himself to Thorin.  
OP: Fey Nim

…

It's not that Kíli is competing with his brother. No, it's not that at all. He and Fíli are closer than close, hardly ever disagreeing and certainly not prone to ridiculous levels of competition. Especially not over their uncle's affections and pride. That would be silly. No, Kíli is most definitely _not_ competing with this brother.

Because to call it a competition would mean that he would lose.

...

It starts simply enough, when their Uncle Thorin gives Fíli a wooden sword to play with and tells Kíli he's _too young_. Fíli decides not to play with the toy, stubbornly leaving it on a shelf until his brother can join in the fun. But it's not enough for Kíli- the wooden sword taunts him, until one afternoon he steals it and sneaks outside to play. He winds up with a blackened eye and a stern lecture for all his trouble.

Fíli and Kíli are overjoyed when they are given their first pony, Francis. Thorin teaches them the proper way to approach the pony, and applauds Fíli when he follows the lesson to the letter. When it is Kíli's turn he vows to do his uncle proud, but his excitement proves too much and gets the better of him. One spooked pony and a disapproving sigh later, Kíli is left to nurse his wounded pride.

Kíli is certainly _not_ competing with his brother when he decides not to take up swordsmanship. Quite the contrary, in fact, because he knows right away that he'll never be as good with blades as Fíli is. He learns that he has a knack for archery instead, then discovers Fíli is proud of his skills. Still, the warmth he feels at his brother's pride is dampened as Thorin mutters under his breath about elven pursuits.

When Thorin takes them into the woods and talks about lineage and Erebor, Kíli is excited. He loves hearing stories about the lost mountain and can easily picture his uncle sitting atop a great stone throne, majestically ruling over the kingdom. Then Thorin names Fíli as his heir to the throne and tells Kíli he needs to grow up. They go from being Fíli-and-Kíli to the heir and the spare.

Just when the brothers have settled into a routine in their forge, Thorin come and upsets things yet again. They had been having a pleasant night of drinking, but Kíli's spirit is quickly dampened by their uncle, who spouts off plans regarding a quest to re-take Erebor and a mysteriously gifted key. When Kíli tries to oppose Thorin's actions he is accused of wasting time and living a meaningless life.

The road to Erebor is paved with many more instances where their uncle is impressed with Fíli, and disappointed in Kíli. It is the younger boy who almost drowns when a pack-pony bolts into a river with him in tow, and Fíli who drags him to safety. Kíli carries the bruises for days from where Thorin had to beat the water from his lungs.

Kíli is only trying to lighten the mood and make his brother laugh when he jokes about orc attacks. Truly, he doesn't really mean to frighten the hobbit with talk of flesh eaters, though it turns out to be an amusing byproduct. Still, his inappropriate humor doesn't set well with Thorin and he chastises Kíli in front of the whole company, accusing him of knowing nothing of the world, and leaving him wholly embarrassed. 

It is Kíli who is held responsible for almost loosing two ponies into the stomachs of trolls, though to be fair, Fíli had a lot to do with it. They are supposed to be on watch, but ponies are boring and there are much more interesting things to be doing in the forest, away from the watchful eyes of the rest of the company. It might have worked out better had Kíli not started the fight without waiting for reinforcements, but they all survived, so Thorin shouldn't have ranted over his nephews irresponsibility.

When Kíli misses his aim while shooting the warg-scout, he doesn't think twice before loosing another arrow into the beast. They kill the scout, but not before it alerts the other goblins, leading to a battle where the company narrowly escapes with their lives. When they run for safety, Kíli is mere seconds behind his brother, but it is his name Thorin shouts to hurry them along.

It is Kíli who chooses wrong and lets the Stone Giants pull Fíli away from him. Though, honestly, had he been with his brother nothing would have changed. When the mountain crumbles into the abyss, Thorin's screams pierce briefly through his own grief. Seeing Fíli safe, Kíli hurries to his side, but not before Thorin rushes past- clutching his heir tightly and pushing the spare aside.

And it is Kíli who causes trouble with the men in Esgaroth, though Fíli tries hard to stop him. _That_ one is entirely his fault, and he doesn't blame Thorin in the slightest for being angry with him.

...

Time and time again it is Kíli who cannot seem to do anything right, Kíli who suffers the glares and curses of Thorin. Fíli is the golden boy. Kíli is the black sheep.

It's not until they reach Beorn's house that Kíli truly realizes that it isn't a competition. Not really. It is deep within these halls where Fíli promises that Kíli will always come first, that he is the most precious thing. Fíli talks of all the times he wanted to give up, and how he would have if Kíli hadn't been there to talk him back from the ledge. He tells Kíli that he would be lost without him, that they will always be together, that their bond is worth more than any kingdom or treasure, and more important then any uncle or king.

No, there is certainly no competition. But if there was, Kíli would most certainly win.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always- thank you so SO much for your favorites, prompts, and reviews! Please keep them coming!
> 
> And since you guys were asking- yes, the new multi-chapter fic I've been working on is going to be a 'Hobbit' story.


	13. Fight: Round 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fíli and Kíli fight.

Fight: Round 1  
Prompt: Kíli and Fíli's first argument   
OP: High Hopes In Velvet Ropes

…

It's the longest Fíli has ever gone without speaking to his brother. Two who days since the words _pesky baby brother_ and _stay out of my way_ left his lips. Two entire nights since Kíli pushed his bed to the other side of their room and slept facing the wall.

_It's his own fault- he knows how sensitive Kíli can be about his age and lack of beard. And he loves his brother; truly and deeply and without question, but sometimes he just needs his space. Especially after another day where everyone is doting on Kíli._ Darling Kíli, beautiful Kíli, Kíli can do no wrong _. It's not Kíli's fault, because all of these things are true. Still, it is hard for Fíli to keep his tempter in check when he sees his little brother preening under the praises instead of hanging at his side where he belongs._

He knows Kíli is still awake, can hear the ragged breaths that mean his beloved brother is fighting back tears. Fíli knows it is his job to apologize; to whisper _I'm sorry_ and _please forgive me_ and _I didn't mean it_ into the darkness between their beds, but he cannot make himself speak. There are no words in his mind that can express the depth of his sorrow, no platitudes that can absolve him of his crime. He hurt his little brother and made him cry- and it is as if the sun has been torn from the sky, leaving him in darkness. Others might call him the golden one on account of his hair, but in reality it is Kíli. Bright, happy Kíli. Whose smile can chase away the deepest gloom, whose laugh can light up the darkest hour. 

He stares across the darkened room, watching his brother's shoulders tremble in the moonlight. Suddenly, the heavy silence is too much for him to bear and he throws back the covers, springing from his bed and closing the distance between them. The apologies fall out in a rush of _I don't deserve you_ and _it was my fault_ and _please don't hate me_. Kíli responds with wide, wet eyes and _I could never hate you_ and a crushing hug.

That's not to say they never fight again- they're brothers and don't always see eye-to-eye. But no matter what the fight- however petty or wild- like two pieces from the same puzzle, they always find their way back together.

 

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Their actual first real fight was over Fíli's braids, which I wrote about in chapter two of 'Soul Forge'. But they're brothers and I'm sure they had arguments all the time. :)


	14. Trapped

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fili goes on a hunting trip and doesn't return.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for the amazing comments!! <3

**Trapped**  
Prompt: Fíli goes hunting and doesn't return. Kíli and Thorin save the day.  
OP: chestry007

…

The sky is gray and overcast when Fíli heads out to check his traps, heavy clouds hinting at an evening of rain. The air is crisp and cool, the coming of autumn a welcome respite from the heat of the summer sun. Fíli takes his time walking through the thick forest to where he laid his snares. It's a pleasant day and he's grateful to be out of the forge, enjoying the fresh mountain air for a change.

He pauses on the outskirts of a meadow, taking in the lush view of the trees with their leaves just starting to turn golden at the tips. The thick brush at the edge of the treeline conceals half a dozen carefully placed rabbit snares. Humming softly to himself, Fíli makes his way to the first marker and frowns upon seeing the trap has been set off, but is empty. The second trap hasn't been touched, but the third yields a fat hare that will make for a hearty stew.

The leaves blanketing the ground around the fourth snare look as though something large and cumbersome has been trampling around beneath the trees. Fíli moves cautiously, not hearing anything to suggest that whatever-it-was is still nearby, but careful none-the-less. Creeping closer to the snare, he falters as the ground slips out from beneath his feet, and then suddenly he is falling- down, down, down...

Fíli crashes through something on his way to the ground- sharpened sticks planted to skewer whatever manner of breast falls prey to the trap. One of the pikes rips into his side, thick flesh and sinew being torn asunder as the weapon wedges itself deep into the muscle. Another pike tears at his thigh, catching on bone and leaving his leg suspended at an odd angle. 

He screams at the initial assault, pain searing his nerves raw as he contorts his body in a hopeless attempt to free himself from the spikes. His pulse pounds in his veins, causing the edges of his vision to blur as the adrenalin rushes through his body. _Help! Somebody! Anybody! Please!_ Fíli's voice breaks and he chokes on bile as one of the pikes cracks under his weight, shifting his body and driving the spike deeper into his side. He starts to scream again, but gives up with a broken sob, knowing there is no one close enough to hear him.

Turning his head to the side, Fíli vomits into the dirt, purging his stomach of breakfast and no small amount of bloody bile. He gags and blanches at the sight, knowing it bodes poorly for his chances of survival. He inhales a deep, steadying breath and takes stock of his surroundings. The pit he has fallen into is twice his height and narrow enough that he is wedged awkwardly into the bottom of it. He can't reach the spike impaling his leg, but can see the dark rivulets of blood soaking the fabric of his trousers and forming a dark puddle in the dirt below. The wound on his side is easy enough to see and reach, though he half wishes it weren't. Pale bits of grizzled muscle jut out from the lesion, interspersed with snapped cords of tendons. Fíli carefully presses a hand to the wound and winces as he watches the blood bubble up beneath his fingertips. Sobbing out in pain, he moves enough to remove his tunic, tearing the fabric into long strips and wrapping them as tightly as possible around his midsection. 

The ground beneath his body is sticky with blood and he preys to Mahal that he won't bleed to death all alone. Drifting in and out of consciousness, he wonders how long it will take Kíli to note his absence. Checking the traps should have taken mere hours, surely by nightfall his brother will come. Fíli struggles to hang on as the darkness finds him again.

…

When Fíli comes to the sky is black, though he has no way to know if it's from the nighttime or the clouds hanging threateningly above him. He tries to move, but quickly gives up as he finds his body too weak to cooperate and the pain too agonizing to handle. Reaching a hand to check the bandages on his side, Fíli sees them come away slick with blood, but can no longer feel the digits. He sobs bitterly, head lulling back against the dirt in resignation. There is nothing he can do except wait and prey and try not to bleed out before his brother rescues him.

And then the rain starts.

The rain doesn't begin to fall so much as the sky simply opens up and heaves its contents upon the world below. One minute Fíli is laying in a sticky mass of blood and dirt, the next thick torrents of water are cascading down the sides of his prison. There is too much rain for the ground to take in, and so it swells on the surface, slowly building up until it covers the hand bracing him on the dirt floor. The air in the pit is suddenly too thick to breath, as panic sets in. The wet darkness robs him of his sight and leaves him feeling hopeless and done-for and all alone.

Fíli is pinned to floor of the pit, completely prone as the water crests over the edge of his hip. In this moment, he truly believes that it will not be the blood-loss that kills him, but that he will die slowly as the rainwater smothers the breath from his lungs. Dwarves are raised with the notion that an honorable death is nothing to fear, but this is not honorable, and Fíli is afraid.

Suddenly there are voices in the distance and he screams with everything that he has left, hoping to alert them to his presence. The wound in his side throbs with exertion, sending waves of fiery pain wracking across his body. The voices stop for a moment, then intensify, calling his name with the single-minded panic reserved for worried family. Fíli yells back to them, wordless sounds that tear from his throat in a series of shrieks and sobs and inarticulate begging.

There is a light above him and a broken sob as Kíli scrambles his way in to the pit with a prayer of _Fíli please_. He tries to reassure his brother, but all words are lost amongst the weeping and relief of being found. Thorin curses as he lowers a rope into the pit and climbs down, boots splashing in the growing pool of muddy rainwater. Fíli's wounds are inspected by lamplight and he finds himself held bodily in place by Kíli as their uncle loosens his leg from the pike. Screaming his throat raw, Fíli claws for purchase against his brother's back as everything blanks out in wake of the pain.

…

Fíli awakes safe and dry in his own bed, with the comforting presence of his brother's weight beside him. His mind is muddled with foggy pain, but a quick check tells him that his wounds have been dressed and he still possesses all of his limbs. Thorin sleeps in a chair beside the bed, dark rings present around his eyes, and his head resting heavily against the wall. Fíli shifts slightly and whimpers in pain, the sound causing his brother to bound immediately awake. Kíli smooths the hair back from his face and quietly promises him that he'll be fine and just needs to rest. That assurance is all he needs, wrapping his fingers around his brother's hand, Fíli drifts off to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This particular drabble is one of my favorites. What did you darlings think of it?


	15. Fight: Round 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The boys have a fist fight.

Fight: Round 2  
Prompt: Knock-down, drag-out fight between the boys.  
OP: ave-mah

…

 

It's only natural that they sometimes disagree. Even though Fíli and Kíli are incredibly close, they are still brothers- and brothers argue. More than that, they are also dwarves- and dwarves fight.

Fíli doesn't even remember what the fight is about, or how it came to blows, but he doesn't particularly care as he dodges a strong right hook from his brother. Kíli fights the same way he does everything- wild and passionate and full of reckless abandon. Fíli's own fighting style is much more reserved- he gauges his opponent carefully, responding with the best counter or most appropriate attack. It's the reason why the brothers work so well together- Kíli is impulsive and unrestrained, and Fíli keeps him balanced and grounded. Fíli is subdued and does everything by the book, and Kíli keeps him thinking outside of his training. They're an unstoppable force when they have each others backs.

For as well as they work together, it's amazing how much more damage they seem to cause when fighting _against_ each other. If Kíli stopped long enough to think during battle, he would be met with the realization that he could easily predict his brother's actions- but he doesn't. And Fíli is lost at how to counter the blows from a brother who is no easier to anticipate than the course of a hurricane. 

This is why, when the Durin boys come to blows, everyone stops to watch. Because Fíli and Kíli are equally skilled in the own styles, but different as night and day. There is never a clear winner- it is always left up to chance.

Fíli regards his brother with a measured stare as Kíli circles around him like a caged animal. A normal opponent would be waiting for him to drop his guard before attacking, but Kíli is anything but normal. The younger boy dives forward, arms locking around Fíli's legs and pulling him to the ground with a solid thud. Fíli throws a punch that lands heavy on his brother's jaw- one that is sure to leave a lasting bruise. Strapping a leg over his brother, Fíli pins him to the ground with a pleased grin. “Give up, little brother!” Teeth sink hard into Fíli's arm, distracting him long enough for Kíli to flip him back onto the ground and reserve their positions. “Did you bite me?! Bloody bastard!” 

Fíli slams his head up, trying to bash it into his brother's, but Kíli dodges the move with a cocky smirk. “You may be older, Fee, but I'm taller.” Kíli uses his extra height to bully his brother into a better position, pinning the older boy's arms to the ground with his knees. Fíli slams his own knees up, kicking at his brother's back while also shifting his weight to the side. Kíli losses his balance and topples over, and both boys are soon lost in a blur of wresting limbs, tangled hair, and muffled curses.

Eventually, they run out of steam, laying side-by-side in the dust as they pant for breath. The brothers regard each other critically, each taking stock of the others injuries. The bite mark on Fíli's arm is oozing blood and Kíli is sporting the beginnings of a large bruise on his lower jaw. Both boys are covered in dust, with tatted clothes and wildly mussed hair. Their eyes meet for a moment in a clash of fire and ice, then suddenly both brothers are laughing and pulling each other to their feet.

“You look like hell, Fee!” Kíli says with a mischievous laugh. “I guess I'll have to fix your braids later.”

Fíli reaches a hand to his head and feels the loosened braids with a shrug. “At least I don't have a muddy birds-nest on my head. We should shave you now and be done with it.”

This earns him a solid punch from his brother, who laughs brightly. “What did you do to start this anyway?”

“Me? I'm sure it was you who started it this time!” Fíli protests good-naturedly. “But I don't rightly know.”

“Huh.” Kíli shrugs, draping an arm around his brother's shoulders. “Must not have been anything too important then.”

Fíli smiles. “It never is.”


	16. Rescued

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kili knows something is wrong.

**Fight: Rescued**  
Prompt: 'Trapped' (chapter 15) from Kíli's PoV.  
OP: ScribeOfRed

OP: ladybria - Who was unhappy with my short ending on 'Trapped'.   
(Even though this ends in the same place, I hope giving Kíli's PoV more detail makes the ending seem less abrupt.)

…

 

Kíli knows something is wrong. He knows it with the same surety that he knows his mother's love, or his uncle's pride. He knows it with the same adamant certainty that he knows his brother's loyalty and the comforting weight of his bow in his hands. Fíli should have been back hours ago. It shouldn't take long to check a handful of rabbit snares- even if all of the traps were full and he had stopped to dress the game before coming home. 

And regardless of how many times his uncle Thorin tells him to sit tight and not worry, Kíli _knows_ something is wrong.

Fíli is the warrior, not the hunter. Were the brothers to take turns hunting, the family would starve on Fíli's watch while living in abundance on Kíli's. It is seldom that Kíli has an advantage over his brother, but instead of flaunting his skill, he spent hours devising a rabbit snare so simple that even Fíli can set them. 

Kíli relishes being able to teach his older brother something- so often in their youths was the other way around, with Fíli sharing his knowledge with his shadow of a younger brother. And Kíli is glad to help Fíli save face- it seems an honest payback for all the times the older dwarf stood up and took blame for the youngers tricks. Every time Fíli comes home with a brace of coneys, Kíli cannot help but smile at the part he played.

But rabbit snares don't take all afternoon to check and the storm clouds hang heavy in the sky.

When his brother doesn't return by supper time, Kíli is through with his uncle's delays. He pulls on his boots and cloak and is half way down the path before Thorin catches up to him, lantern in hand. They don't speak as they head into the forest, leaves crunching under their boots as they hurry to beat the oncoming storm. Thunder cracks overhead, followed by a flash of lightening that illuminates the path ahead of them with an eerie brilliance. As the sky opens up above them a hard knot forms in Kíli's stomach, making it difficult to breathe. There is still no sign of Fíli and something is definitely wrong.

The rain is like ice on his skin, but Kíli cannot bring himself to care. He sloshes through the puddles and calls out his brother's name with increasing desperation and intensity. “Fíli!” Nothing but the howl of the wind. “FILI!” Nothing but a loud burst of thunder. “ **FILI!** ” Nothing.

Kíli slips in the muck and falls, a sharp rock tearing into the flesh of his knee as he is sent sprawling. He pulls himself to his feet, not hearing Thorin's concern as he rushes forward into the clearing where Fíli's traps are set. Another bolt of lightening and Kíli cannot see his brother. For a brief moment he imagines the worst- that his strong, golden, lion-heart of a brother is lying dead somewhere, torn apart by beasts or blades. In that moment there is nothing left of Kíli, no reason to carry on and his knees go weak under his weight. A broken whimper escapes him and is swallowed by the storm. “FILI!!!”

There is a wordless sound, nothing more then a guttural shriek carried by the wind, but Kíli knows the voice and it is enough. “Fee!”

He stumbles in the direction of the sound, Thorin struggling to keep up with his frantic strides. There is another scream, weak and desperate and drenched with pain, but Kíli clings to it. Screams mean that Fíli is still alive. Another flash of lightening reveals a deep pit in the earth and Kíli collapses to his knees beside it. “Fíli?” The response from the darkness is nothing more than inarticulate begging, ragged and broken, but still Fíli.

“Fíli!” Thorin brings the lantern and Kíli almost wishes he hadn't. His beloved brother lays in a wet pit twice their height and filled with pikes. Bile rises in his throat to see Fíli skewered like a beast, but he chokes it down with a strangled sob. He scrambles down the edge of the pit as carefully as he can, trying not to jar his brother in any way. Prayers of _Fíli please_ and _Stay with me, brother_ fall unbidden from his lips as Thorin ties off a rope and follows him down.

The rainwater has filled the pit enough to cover the ground, but it is not enough to wash away all the blood and gore from Fíli's body. Deep rivulets of red soak through the makeshift bandage wrapped around his torso, and Kíli's breath catches in his chest at the sight. There is blood. There is so much blood. And Kíli hates himself for not acting the moment he first knew something was wrong.

Fíli's leg is broken, the pike still embedded into the flesh and pinning him against the dirt floor of the pit. Kíli moves to wrap his arms around his brother, burying his face in Fíli's hair and murmuring quiet promises: _You'll be okay, Fee. I'm here. I won't leave you_. He knows it won't be enough, that nothing he can say will stop the pain or calm his brother's frantic sobs, but it's all he has to offer.

As Thorin loosens the spike in Fíli's leg, Kíli sobs _I'm sorry_ and holds his brother in place against the pain. Fíli's scream is the most heart-wrenching sound he has ever heard, damaged and raw and desperate, and so unlike the strong brother Kíli is used to seeing. Fíli claws against his back, sobbing through the pain until it becomes too much and he collapses in a broken heap. Kíli presses his ear to his brother's chest, listening for sure signs of breath and heart before allowing himself to feel grateful. As much as the screams let him know that Fíli is alive, they also remind him of how much pain his brother is in, and the unconsciousness is a small grace. 

Kíli loops the rope under Fíli's arms, whispering a silent prayer to Mahal as Thorin drags the injured boy up the slope of the pit. There is no easy way to get him home- no pony to ride, no litter to drag- and Thorin resorts to bundling Fíli in his cloak and carrying him like a baby in his arms. Kíli tries to lead the way with the lantern, but spends most of the trip dogging at his uncle's side, watching his brother for any signs of waking. _I will stay by your side, Fee. Always._

They make it home drenched and tired, but none of that matters as they strip Fíli from his clothes and send for a doctor. Fíli shivers uncontrollably even as they stoke the fire and bathe his skin with warm water to wash away the dirt and gore. The wounds seem worse in the light and Kíli fears that he will loose his brother even still. _Please no_. The leg is easy to set once the wound has been cleaned, and the doctor makes short work of splinting the limb and stitching the lacerated flesh back together. _It will mend with time_ , Kíli tells himself to keep the fears at bay. 

The trauma to Fíli's side is more worrisome. Pale strips of muscle bulge out from the wound, the flesh torn in jagged strips from where the pike caught hold. Kíli doesn't have a weak stomach, he can kill and gut an animal without batting an eye, but the site of his brother's innards is too much and he empties the contents of his stomach into the basin. _Stay with me, Fee_ is whispered into his brother's hair as the doctor reattaches the tissue and applies a poultice to ward off infection. He holds Fíli's head as a thick liquid is poured down his throat to keep him in restful unconsciousness.

...

Kíli watches his brother sleep for three days while Fíli's body battles off infection and fights to knit itself back together again. For three days he changes the bandages and checks the dressings and smooths back his brother's hair as he cries out in pain. Kíli barely eats, barely sleeps, and never leaves Fíli's side. _I will be here when you wake up_. He gnaws on the nail of one finger until it is raw, then moves on to the next, until each fingertip is stinging and bloodied. For three days Kíli watches his brother sleep, waiting for him to regain consciousness, and searching for signs that anything is wrong.

By the fourth day Kíli's mind is foggy with exhaustion. There are no prayers left to utter, no promises to be made, no words he can think of to beg his brother back to him. The doctor assure him that Fíli will wake when he's ready, that he has every chance for a full recovery, but Kíli cannot believe it while his brother still lays silent. His eyes are heavy with sleep and worry, and when he can no longer fight either, he climbs onto the bed and presses his forehead against Fíli's shoulder. The steady beat of his brother's heart is soothing and Kíli lets sleep claim him.

Kíli doesn't know how long he's slept for, but the fire in the hearth is nothing but coals when he awakes. He blinks, confused for a moment about where he is, before the sinking dread creeps back in to remind him of his brother's grievous wounds. _Fíli..._ He turns his head and cries out in surprise when he finds tired blue eyes watching him. “Fee?”

Fíli makes a soft whimpering noise, the pain apparent in the crinkle of his brow, but Kíli cannot help but feel overjoyed. Tears stream down his face as he whispers _You'll be all right_ and _Rest now_ and _I won't leave you_ into his brother's hair as he presses their foreheads together. Fíli's hand finds his and twines their fingers together, a simple act that grounds Kíli and makes his chest swell with happiness. It will take time for Fíli's side to heal and longer still for the break in his leg to mend, but Kíli knows he will be there every step of the way to help and encourage his brother. Before long they will be back in the forge, back to weapons training, and back to hunting- though Kíli doubts he will ever let his brother check snares on his own. The fearful knot in the pit of his stomach slowly dissipates and the feeling of wrongness finally eases away.

He has his brother back and Kíli knows everything will be okay.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The first chapter in my new 'Hobbit' story Mahal's Pride has been posted today! Please check it out and let me know what you think!
> 
> http://archiveofourown.org/works/753547


	17. Bitten

**Eighteen: Bitten**  
OP: shinyadoll  
Prompt: Teething

…

Fíli sits at the foot of his bed glaring at the small cot in the corner of the room. From inside the cot a high pitched shriek comes from his tiny lump of a baby brother. Usually Kíli is all smiles and cooing and giggles for his older brother- he has been since the first moment he learned to control his face and voice. Of course he cries when he is hungry or dirty or sleepy, but those things are easy to fix. Kíli never just cries.

Fíli sighs as he stands up and walks to the cot. Tiny arms stretch up at him, hands balled into fat fists that wave in frantic need of... something.

"I dunno what you want!" Fíli says in worried irritation, half expecting the baby to answer him. "I always know what you want." He bits his lip, silently reminding himself that almost-7 is too old to cry for no reason.

A single crocodile tear forms in the corner of Kíli's eye and slowly rolls down his chubby cheek before disappearing into the folds of his neck.

"Don't cry, brother! Please!" Fíli reaches out and wipes the tear away. "Scream all you wanna, but please don't cry!"

The baby wails louder, his whole face turning tomato red and splotchy with exertion.

"It's okay, Kíli. I'm here. I'm not gonna leave you." Fíli strokes the small dark turf of hair on his brother's head. "Mama's outside working. I promised to take care of you." He wipes a string of drool from the baby's face and wrinkles his nose. "You're really slobbery today. I wish you could talk and tell me what's wrong."

Kíli reaches out and latches on to Fíli's finger with a meaty fist, promptly sticking the digit into his mouth and biting down.

"Ow! Kíli! That hurts! Stop biting me!" Fíli goes to pull away, but stops suddenly in realization. "You have a tooth!" He leans close and peers into the drooly cave of his brother's mouth. "You have two teeth! No wonder you're crying!"

But Kíli is no longer crying and instead chomps happily on his brother's finger with a cheerful gurgle.

Fíli grins at the baby and ignores the slight sting in his finger caused by his brother's new teeth. When Kíli smiles up at him and blows a messy raspberry, nothing else matters.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know this drabble is short, but I really wanted something a little fluffier... The original chapter I wrote for this week got pretty dark, so I bumped it to next week. :)
> 
> Thanks again for all the reviews and comment- you guys are really awesome! I know updates have been a little sporadic, but I've been spending most of my writing time on my other multi-chapter Hobbit fic (I've seen some of you over there! Thank you!).


	18. Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, thank you guys SO much for the thoughtful reviews. It seems like the last chapter was really popular. I hope you like this one too... I honestly was trying to write young Kíli having a nightmare and then fluffy brother snuggles... This happened instead.

**Eighteen: Nightmares**

…

Fíli yawns and blinks into the darkness, trying to discern why he has woken up when it is still obviously nighttime. Through the heavy glass of his window, he can see the moon hanging high in the sky, kept company by the autumn constellations. Fall is his favorite time of year; the crisp cool air is a welcome break after the heat of summer and the harvests bring in a bounty of food to fill the larders. The best part of fall is the breaks he gets from training and working in the forge; the breaks he gets to go hunting with Kíli.

Kíli.

He stretches an arm across the double mattresses, feeling at the empty blankets beside him with surprise. The mattress is still warm from where his little brother was laying, which means Kíli has only just gotten up. Fíli's sleep addled brain susses out that Kíli's departure must be what woke him in the first place.

Sitting up in bed Fíli pushes back the covers and swings his feet down onto the cold planks of the floor. He grabs one of the blankets and wraps it around his shoulders before padding out of the room in search of his brother. Kíli is not in the kitchen, nor the washroom, nor the den. The latch on the front door has been thrown, so Fíli opens it as quietly as he can and climbs down the stairs, carefully skipping the squeaky board on the second step. 

The moon provides enough light for his sharp eyes to make out the details in the yard, but still no sign of Kíli. Walking slowly around the house, Fíli peers into every nook and shadow, trying not to give in to the worry that churns in the pit of his stomach. His brother is young, barely more than a child, but he is strong and brave, if a little impulsive. Kíli is not in danger. No- wherever Kíli is, he's there of his own volition and for his own reasons. 

Creeping around the back corner of the house, Fíli sees a small lump of a shadow beneath their bedroom window that shouldn't be there. “Kíli?” He whispers into the darkness and sees the shadow-lump startle. “What are you doing out here?”

“Nothing,” Kíli responds, though his voice is small and almost inaudible in the gloom.

“I know you, brother.” Fíli takes a step forward and sighs. “We tell each other everything in the end, don't drag this out. What is bothering you?”

The shadow that is Kíli grows smaller and Fíli crouches down in order to see his brother. The younger dwarf is curled in on himself, his eyes wide and glossy in the moonlight.

“I had a nightmare, Fee,” Kíli's voice in unusually somber and it worries Fíli to hear. His brother is smiles and jokes and laughter; to see him worried over a bad dream is unsettling.

“You've had nightmares before, when you were a child...” Fíli starts with a frown. “Once you were awake and assured everyone was safe you would always go back to sleep with ease. Why does this dream trouble you so?”

Kíli is quiet for so long that Fíli finds himself reaching out to clutch his brother's arm in order to be sure he's still near. “Talk to me, brother. Please. Let me help.”

“I dreamed of a terrible battle,” Kíli whispers into the darkness, defeat and agony clear in his voice. “We stood together on the battlements of a great wall, dressed in the finest armor I have ever seen. You were armed to the teeth with twin swords and all manners of hidden weapons. Truly, Fee, you looked like one of the fierce warriors from the tales we were told as children!”

Fíli cannot help but grin at the praise, though his smile is short-lived in the face of Kíli's fear. “That doesn't sound so bad, brother. A warrior on the evening of a great battle- that is an honor among our people.” He feels his brother tremble slightly under his hand. “And what of you?”

“I bore my bow and a single blade. The knife you forged for me was tucked in my belt.” Kíli gazes up at the moon, his dark eyes distant and glistening. “We thought we were prepared to fight, but we were wrong. We had no idea what a true battle was. The army of our enemy was vast and dark and swarmed the hillside below us. We rushed together into the fray, but our weapons and armor were not enough!” Kíli's voice cracks and his words break off in a soft sob. “We never stood a chance, Fee! The gods had decided upon our deaths before we ever set foot on that battlefield!”

He cries in earnest, his shoulders shaking with violent, hopeless sobs. “I saw us die, Fee! I saw the arrows pierce me and the blades cut you down! I watched our final breathes and my heart died at the sight!”

Fíli pulls the blanket from his shoulders and wraps it around his brother, pulling him close. “It was a dream, Kíli. It was not real.”

“I have never had a dream like that, Fee. Never!” He whimpers and cards his fingers into his brother's hair. “It felt so real.”

“But it wasn't, little brother. You and I are still here. We're still safe.” He wraps his arms around Kíli and presses their foreheads together. “Tomorrow we will wake up as always and go hunting. There will be crops to harvest and winter to prepare for. Then we will go back to the forge and restart out lessons with Uncle. There is no dark battle looming on the horizon.”

Kíli sniffles and nods into the crook of his brother's neck. “You're right, Fee. It was just a bad dream.”

They stay curled together until the sun crests over the horizon and the busyness of the day lightens their moods and draws their attention. Little by little, time fades the nightmare from their minds and replaces it with the laughter and tears of everyday life. By first snowfall neither boy remembers the dream.

...


	19. 'Til Death

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry.

**'Til Death**

Prompt: Kíli remembers his nightmare (from 'Nightmares') just before Bo5A.  
OP: Just about everyone who commented on the last chapter.

…

“We're going to die, Fee.” The sky is dark over the Lonely Mountain, but darker still is the field below them.

“You don't know that, brother. We could still win.” There is something in the breeze, not quite a voice, but a fatal promise.

Kíli looks at him with eyes that are tender and damp. “Win or loose we are still going to die.”

The air is hot and stifling, even though there is no break in the clouds for the sun to shine through. “There is no way to know the outcome. We will fight...”

“And we will fall.” Kíli doesn't seem afraid, which frightens Fíli even more. “I've seen this before, Fee. I've seen how we die.”

The sounds from the amassing armies make his knees shake. “I don't understand.”

“Years ago, when we were children, I dreamed this.” He looks right to Fíli. “You found me hiding outside in the dark and convinced me it was nothing but a nightmare.”

He wants to ask if Kíli is sure, but he too remembers the dream. “We can fight destiny. We can stay out of the battle.”

“That won't change a thing.” The finality in his brother's voice makes Fíli want to scream.

“And Uncle will die as well?” He is not certain he wants to know the answer.

Kíli nods, “Everyone we know we will be in the Halls. The Line of Durin ends today.”

“We hungered for so much when we lost the mountain that we could not see our own greed once we reclaimed it.”

They sit shoulder-to-shoulder for a long time, the din from the battlefield filtering up through the rock walls to where they are waiting.

“If we could go back,” Fíli starts, turning to look at his brother, “would you change anything?”

Kíli smiles softly, “If this is to be final last breath, I will leave this realm with no regrets.”

“None at all?” The sound of enemy voices rolls across the hills like waves and almost drowns out the reply.

“There are things that could have gone better, but had they been different we would not be who we are now.”

Fíli nods in understanding. “I would not change a single moment either, brother.”

“I only wish that we had more time.” Their eyes meet with resolve. “But I am grateful for the amount we were given.”

Fíli presses their foreheads together, raven hair mingling with gold. “You were the best brother I could have ever asked for.”

Kíli reaches up and cards his fingers through his brother's hair. “This life may be over, Fee, but I had you 'til death.”

…

>   
> _I said if we could go back_  
>  If we had time for that  
> Oh would you change anything  
> Well you said "this is my last breath  
> And I'll leave with no regret  
> This life is over but I had you 'til death"   
> -Barcalona, 'Til Death

... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Almost every comment about the last chapter was asking if Kili remembered the dream once Bo5A was upon them. Then Barcalona's "'Til Death" came on my playlist. I really dislike song-fics, but I couldn't stop thinking about the lyrics and my boys. I swear the next chapter will be fluffy.


	20. First Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! I wrote cute baby dwarves for you guys!! I hope you enjoy this one!

**First Steps**

Prompt: Extreme fluff to make up for the last two sad chapters.

…

Kíli never learns to crawl.

While most dwarflings spend months – even years! - scooting about on their hands and knees, Kíli never sees a reason to. Why should he put in the effort to move himself from place to place when all he has to do is blink his large dark eyes and his older brother will carry him anywhere.

Even though Fíli is barely more than a toddler himself, he takes it upon himself to keep his brother with him at all times. When Kíli is just a babe it is easy enough for Fíli to lift the tiny lump of a dwarfling from his cot and lug him over to whatever game or adventure suits them. But baby dwarves grow quickly and it isn't long until Fíli can no longer lift his brother. Instead, he takes to wrapping his arms around Kíli's thick torso and dragging the smaller boy across the hardwood floor.

It would be much easier if Kíli would would move himself, but Fíli cannot bring himself to mind too much. Not when he hears the shrieking laughter that springs from Kíli's lips. 

...

Fíli chases a butterfly around the yard while Kíli follows his movements with dark eyes and bright giggles. The older boy trips over a rock and goes sprawling, his knee scraping against the uneven ground. Tears well up in his eyes as he regards his bloodied leg and lets out a wailing cry. Dís rushes to the sound of her son's cries, but stops cold in the doorway. 

Several feet away Kíli pulls himself to his feet. 

His tiny face scrunches in fierce determination as he takes one shaky step towards his brother, then another. Slowly, Kíli closes the distance between them, stopping only when he reaches his brother's side. “Fee.”

“Kíli?” Fíli's head snaps up in surprise.

“Fee.” He regards the older boy with a worried look.

Fíli's tears dry and he promptly forgets the scrap on his knee. “I'm okay.”

The younger dwarfling crawls into his brother's lap. “Mine. Fee.” He wraps a chubby fist around a lock of Fíli's hair and snuggles in close.

“My brother.” He wraps his arms around Kíli, pulling the little dwarfling in tight.

A giggle escapes Kíli's lips as he smiles proudly up at his brother.

Grinning, Fíli cuddles his baby brother closer and tickles his feet for good measure.

Dís watches from the doorway, amazed that her youngest son took his first steps only moments before uttering his first words. It shouldn't surprise her that both firsts involved her older child. They may be only babes, but already she can see a strong bond forming between them. She can hardly remember what Fíli was like before Kíli was born and she prays neither boy will have to learn about life without the other.

With a small smile Dís goes back into the house, the sound of Fíli's laughter and Kíli's happy shrieks floating after her.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter, there was a guest review from Adriana who wanted a chapter about the boys in the Halls of Waiting after their deaths. That actually occurs in the very last chapter of 'Soul Forge'! If you haven't read that story, you should... it follows Fíli and Kíli from childhood until (after) death and is the 'verse this drabble series is based on.


	21. For You

**For You**

 

Dís sinks onto the bed and rubs a hand over her face. There should be no tears left for her to cry, but her eyes are still damp and her throat raw. Grár is dead. Her beloved husband, taken from her by an orc's poison blade. It was quick, the scouts said. He didn't suffer long. It should offer her some comfort, but it does not. 

Grár was a traveling merchant and not one of her kin. They had met in the wake of tragedy, not long after Dís' family had been driven from Erebor by the dragon Smaug. He had drawn the laughter from between her lips in the days when there had been little to be happy about. Grár loved her with a fiery devotion and she returned his affections with a fierce passion. They wed on a warm spring day and her remaining kin danced at their wedding. They settled in the Blue Mountains and brought Fíli into the world a short time later.

She rests a hand on the swell of her stomach, feeling the child turning within. Grár's child. A darling miracle who will never know his father. Dís is sure the child will be a son. She is carrying low in her womb, behind her hips, just as she did Fíli. He is just five years old and knows his father is never coming home.

Dís sobs for his loss and her own.

A movement at the door rips Dís from her grief. For a moment she sees Grár in her child's face. Fíli is a small mirror of his father, with hair like spun gold and the same even disposition. But his eyes are his mother's- the watery sapphire that all the Thrain's children inherited from their father, and his father before him.

Fíli whimpers and she holds her arms out to him, pulling him close and letting him rest his head on her swollen belly. Her boys. Her reasons for living. Without them she would have no cause to go on. Running a hand soothingly through Fíli's hair she quietly begins a lullaby.

_It’s late now_  
 _Time to sleep_  
 _Close your eyes_  
 _Go to dreams_

_Clouds on walls_  
 _And blue skies_  
 _Mommy’s sun,_  
 _her moon, her stars_

Fíli snuggles in tighter to his mother and yawns, his tiny hand unconsciously pressing against the flesh of her stomach where the baby kicks in response. He closes his eyes and Dís is struck again at how much he looks like his father. She will never see her child's face without thinking of Grár and his smile. They had talked about their unborn son and Grár voiced hopes that the child would share his dark eyes and Dís' mischievous smile. She thinks now that it might be better if the baby looks nothing like his father.

_And you_  
 _You make me run_  
 _And you_  
 _You make me want to live_

Her child's steady breaths are calming, as is the gentle beating of his heart against her abdomen. Grár was her bond-mate. Her life. Her love. They were supposed to have years left together- to raise their children in the shadow of the mountain and teach them to be strong. Now she will have to do that all alone.

_Your smiles_  
 _Well they make my day_  
 _You don’t know it yet_  
 _But you’re everything_

Dís whispers the lyrics to her sons- one sleeping, one yet unborn. Her tears have dried and are replaced by a fierce determination. Her sons will know love. They will know happiness. They will have the full lives that she and Grár were denied together. Her husband is gone, but her sons are alive... and while they are, Dís has a reason to live.

_And you_  
 _You make me run_  
 _And you_  
 _You make me want to live_  
 _For you_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The lullaby Dís is singing is Fisher's 'You'. It came on my playlist while driving last night and this idea hit me so hard I had to pull over and write it down. For me, Dís is one of the most tragic characters related to The Hobbit. I'm going to go cry in a corner now.


	22. Shield-Brothers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, my darlings! I haven't forgotten about this drabble series, I've just been busy writing other things. There will still be updates to this when inspiration strikes and times allows. I've been on a bit of a Dwalin kick lately, so here's the big guy beating some sense into our boys. :)

**Twenty-Two: Shield-Brothers**

…

“Watch yer left flank, Fíli! Yer leaving yerself open!” Dwalin growls, smacking the blond dwarf with the flat of his blade. “I said watch yer flank!”

Fíli curses at the impact, knowing full well he'll have a bruise in the morning. “Sorry, Master Dwalin!” He shifts his stance to prevent another hit.

Kíli twirls in from the side with his practice sword, more flash than form. He grins, expecting to have the element of surprise, but Dwalin responds instinctively and lands a solid blow on the brunet's arm. “Yer dropping yer guard, lad!”

The boys circle around their weapons master, each trying to get inside his guard and land a hit. But Dwalin blocks and parries each blow with ease, sending the boys sprawling to the ground with increasing regularity.

“Stop! STOP!” Dwalin bellows, glaring at the young dwarves in frustration. “This isn't working. There's no way Thorin is going to let ya go on the quest when ya can't even hold yer own in a fight.”

“But Mister Dwalin!” Kíli all-but whines. “We do just fine sparring again the others in our age group. Fighting you is different!”

“Do ya think all the goblins in the wild will fight like yer year-mates?” Dwalin scoffs. “They'll fight tough and dirty and ya'll be dead before ya know what hit ya.”

“We have to go on the quest,” Fíli says with a frown. “We're supposed to be Uncle Thorin's heirs. We can't expect people to see us as leaders if we didn't even help to reclaim our home.”

Dwalin nods, pleased that one of the boys is thinking rationally. “Than we'll have to find a fighting style that works for ya.” He regards the two princes for a moment, noting the way they have subtlety shifted closer together, as if protecting each other from his harsh words.

“Incoming!” The weapons master only gives a single word of warning before springing at the boys, bringing his practice blade down hard at Fíli's head.

“Fee!” Kíli lunges forward and blocks the blade, glaring at Dwalin with a fierce scowl. “That was a head shot! Even with a padded sword you could have really hurt him!”

Dwalin doesn't respond, simply shifts his form and swings quickly at Kíli's neck.

This time it's Fíli who reacts, using his hip to bodily push his younger brother our of the way. “Are you trying to hurt us!?”

“Baruk Khazâd!” Dwalin screams and charges at the boys with a feral speed.

Kíli and Fíli unconsciously shift until their backs are pressed together, each guarding the others flank. As Dwalin gets within range they lash out, Fíli ducking low to take out the weapons master's legs, while Kíli goes in high and catches his blade. Together they make short work of things and soon Dwalin is laying in the dirt at sword point.

“Shield-brothers.” Dwalin grins up at them from his prone position. “I should have bloody well known ya'd fight best when yer together.”

“You were testing us,” Fíli says flatly.

“I thought you'd gone batty,” Kíli adds.

Dwalin shrugs, obviously pleased with himself. “If ya knew what I was trying ya'd have over-thought it. Now we know where yer strengths lie.”

Fíli grins. “We're strongest when we're together.”

“Obviously!” Kíli laughs brightly. “I could have told you that without the heavy handed combat test!”

Shrugging, Dwalin gets to his feet and hefts his blade. “At the ready, lads. We've got training to do!”

Fíli and Kíli exchange a pleased smirk and raise their weapons. Shoulder-to-shoulder they turn to face the next challenge.

...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Earlier this week I posted a one-shot called "In Sorrow We Must Go, But Not in Despair". It could very easily be a part of this 'verse... So, check it out if you enjoy these cannon-based stories. :) http://archiveofourown.org/works/840249


End file.
